


Forgiving Tucker

by Thepresidentofrussia23



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Tragedy, Biphobia, Dorks in Love, Ed Tucker is Bi, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Families of Choice, Family Drama, Family Issues, Family Reunions, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Internalized Homophobia, Love Confessions, M/M, Men Crying, Minor Character Death, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Romance, Sad Ending, Suffering, Team as Family, Tragedy, Wakes & Funerals, bisexual Ed Tucker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:54:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 30
Words: 32,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26965516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thepresidentofrussia23/pseuds/Thepresidentofrussia23
Summary: Before Ed Tucker became the brash, no nonsense, hardened man, he was once a green, idealistic officer who had dreams of changing the world as a young man. All it took was so many sexual assaults and the loss of so many close loved ones to make him shut down and build up walls high, never to let anybody through.This is the story of Ed Tucker's self destruction from beginning to end."They don't ask why I'm so broken...That's fine, they'll never know."
Relationships: Ed Tucker/Elliot Stabler, Ed Tucker/Mike Dodds, ed tucker/original female character (deceased)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 4





	1. The Beginning

Ed Tucker wasn't always harsh, or sealed off to the world, he wasn't always a captain either. He once was a young man who wanted to make a difference in the world and to change people's lives for the better, he never dreamed that someday he would become a efficient and cold hearted leader of the Investigative Affairs Bureau, he never thought that one day he would discover a part of himself that he would struggle to come to terms with forever. 

Ed grew up as an only child to a Roman Catholic mother and a atheist father who were very much loving, but equal parts strict, they made him recite his verses for eating when it was dinnertime and they made him say his verses for sleeping when it was time for bedtime. He grew up around so many rules and regulations that he began to lean into and embrace the need for rules his entire life. He had developed an affinity to rules because of how he was raised and how they brought structure to his chaotic life when they divorced, watching his parents fight and yell and squabble was one of the most traumatic things that marked his early childhood and he delved into his books in hopes of escaping their open hostility for each other and he was glad that as soon as the divorce was finalized, he would be able to visit his parents separately, but deep within, he felt shattered because he wanted his family to be together and happy, he hated how he was alone dealing with the mess of his family life and he hated it so much.

He withdrew deep into his mind, putting up walls and pretending he was fine when he wasn't and going through the motions of praying and crossing himself, when his mother forced him to go to bible study and camps and he had heard whispers of a priest hanging around kids more than he was supposed to, he didn't know what to believe, but he kept his distance around Priest Donovan, but one night while he was asleep in camp, Priest Donovan yanked the covers off of Ed as he snored and laid next to him and molested Ed, who woke up to Priest Donovan pleasuring himself and Ed at the same time and gulped when his length hardened with the added stimulation as the man jerked himself off and moaned. Ed couldn't make a sound, he tried to not scream in terror as the man then got out of bed, lay the cover on him and let him sleep. He felt so sick to his stomach that he never wore those pajamas again. 

He didn't understand the gravity of what happened to him, feeling hurt and destroyed to the point that he actively avoided Priest Donovan and his mother for putting him in that position. He stayed at his father's house, afraid of his own shadow and afraid that somehow, his own parents knew that something terrible had happened to him and he hated it very much when he hid and lied from his own parents.

He soon was determined to make sure this never happened to anybody and he wanted to be an enforcer of the rules and laws of the land, he wanted to protect everyone from the evil that roamed the streets, he wanted to make sure that this place he lived in, would be a better place after he left it, than when he found it.

He graduated from high school and went to college and applied to a community college near him and applied to join the NYPD. He anxiously waited and then went through a series of interviews and written exams and was soon allowed to go into the academy and studied very hard, he got good grades and was able to even get prestigious honors with his AA degree and he graduated as a valedictorian from the academy and was awarded several ribbon bars including the Pistol Shot award and he proudly polished them and tacked them below his shining silver badge, hoping that somehow, he was doing the world some good, but his world was being rocked to pieces when he found out that he had a twin named Jason Tucker who had been raised by distant relatives out west in Seattle. Jason Tucker was now a cop in the Seattle Police Department and was rising through the ranks as a sniper in a Robbery Task Force and he was skilled at his job and efficient at taking down extremely dangerous threats, he was angry at his parents and added 

"So you guys somehow conveniently thought that hiding my younger twin brother from me was somehow the smartest idea that you both have conceived? Let me say that you both are utterly ridiculous! Its awful that you both think that hiding Jason from me would have ever made things better! You guys are disgusting and awful and make me so sick! Neither of you deserve either me or Jason!"

He was nervous as he sat in front of his work computer, looking at the email address and work phone that was handed to him by someone who found Jason's contacts list in a rolodex and and sighed as he typed up the email, edited it a dozen times nervously and he was sure he even consulted the thesaurus for the first time in his life since the state exams as a young student and hoped and prayed that somehow...he would get to know his twin Jason a little more. And maybe, just maybe begin a new chapter on his own that would hopefully end on a more sweeter note.


	2. Persona non grata

After I sent that email to Jason, I sort of felt a sense of anxiety and relief once I clicked "Send" it was a strange feeling I was not accustomed to and it showed. I hoped that somehow we could get answers about the mess of our lives and I sort of wondered what he had been up to since we hadn't been raised together as twins. It was early 1982 in February when my captain gave me the recommendation to take the Detective's exam and I was nervous all over. I was hopeful that I sure could make a difference, but Captain Nathan Adams always, forever a man who could never be pleased, somehow believed in me? That sounded almost absurd. But what if he was being genuine? I didn't know as he was derisively nicknamed "Captain Asshole" behind his back. And it was a nickname that was well earned because of how much of an ass he was to everyone. He even drove the nicest cop to almost quitting the force.

I then saw an email reply from Jason, but I decided to check it after I took the exam. I was nervous as I sat down and the proctor gave us the instructions clearly 

"When I hand you the test packet, do not open the booklet until I say 'Go' when you are done, please come quietly to the desk, lay your packet and scratch paper down and close the door quietly behind you. No talking. No whispering. You only get three breaks, the first one after thirty minutes, the second one after ninety minutes and the third one after a hundred and twenty minutes. You are allowed a pencil, a scientific calculator, a ruler and three sheets of scratch paper. Good luck. Go."

And just with that, I opened the booklet and started answering questions one by one. Most of them were easy questions like, what would you do during a traffic stop and what would you say and so on, but there were some tougher questions that forced me to recall case law and what did they pertain to and why were they needed. Some of the questions were all about procedure and what to do with evidence and as I finished the exam near the end of the time allotted to all of us, I could feel a heavy sense of anxiety creep into my veins...what if I didn't pass the test? What if I failed so big that I would be kicked out of the NYPD. I was scared and I was a bundle of nerves, but I tried to not let it show as I put the packet on the desk and then closed the door quietly behind me as I thought of what they would think of my answers. It was three days later I did the firearms discharge test and I demonstrated what I knew and I was able to get a perfect score at the target range. I then did the interview and I was able to answer the questions efficiently and quickly and then I checked the emails and was drowned with a deluge of emails with more paperwork and more things to do and it sincerely frustrated me. I worked late until the night, getting the paperwork finished and finishing it all on time and then turning it all in to the Sargent. 

I finally, just finally had time to open the email that my twin had sent me and I took a deep breath, preparing for whatever, preparing for something I wasn't sure I was preparing for.

"Dear Ed Tucker,

I hope this Email finds you well, it is a pleasure and an honor to meet and to get to know you. To find out that I have a twin sibling is mindboggling and shocking to say the least. I was completely floored when my Aunt Cheryl told me that she had been raising me and what was worse was that she had knowledge of your existence. It was shocking and a bit of a betrayal on her end to be hiding such a massive secret from me. It was unfair and horrifying. I can imagine that your reaction was very much the same when your parents told you as well. Nevertheless, I chose to forgive my Aunt, the decision to forgive our parents, however is up to you alone. I want to introduce a bit of my background. I graduated from Miami University with a major in Criminal Justice and then applied to the Seattle Police Department, I now work in the Vice division and it is quite the job you might expect. It is exciting and dangerous but also very fulfilling. Based off of your signature line from your previous Email, I'm going to assume you're still a beat cop and that's okay. Growing takes time and getting promoted takes time, its okay if it takes you longer. So don't worry about what others say. Okay? At any rate, I should be finishing up and getting started on paperwork. Good luck on your Detective's exam, I know you'll do great.

Best of wishes,

Det. 1st grade: Jason Keenan."

I smiled a tiny bit to myself before typing out a reply and then finishing up and then going home. I was hopeful that we would get to know each other a little more and I was hoping he had the same hope as well. It was a week later when the letter came in the mail from the Commissioner and I opened up the envelope and I was so elated when I read the letter, it was a congratulatory letter on me making Detective 3rd grade and I could not have been more happier. I was so excited, I jumped in the air for joy and let out a loud whoop. I giggled and hugged the letter and put it in my diary, I wanted to keep it as a memory forever and to instill joy and hope in me. It was the next day I was assigned to Narcotics and I was so excited to meet my new senior detective. The captain of the precinct was Myles Waterstone and he had a heavy Texas accent and he wore a big, white, ten gallon cowboy hat and he wore a big steel buckled belt round his waist and I heard he had a penchant for eating ten pound steaks. Captain Myles welcomed me around the Bronx 45th precinct and I noticed how despondent and depressed and defeated looking they were. I decided to not let this deter me as I entered his office and he then smiled and began, his Texas accent curling his words

"Well, welcome to the four-five precinct. I am Captain Myles Waterstone. Don't mind my last name, I'm not related to or affiliated with the Watergate hotel." He let out a hearty chuckle with that joke and then began on a more serious tone "So, down to business, we have a desk for you and we also have a partner for you, her name is Naomi Woolworth, she's a Detective First grade, very well experienced and friendly, I can see that you and her personalities will match very well and will be compatible. So, I trust you two will get along just smooth sailing."

At that moment Naomi strode in and I wasn't really impressed by her, she looked tired and down beat like the rest of the precinct, but her brown eyes sparkled with intelligence and I felt my heart flutter a little. She was about three inches taller in me, dressed in worn down, ratty looking clothes that one would find in the back of a building and wearing sneakers, a badge hung round her neck and her hair looked like it was dry, scaly and stringy. Her locks cascaded down her shoulders and looked severely unkempt and unwashed for at least a month and the russet locks were tied in a pony tail at the nape of her neck. 

Her chestnut eyes glance sharply into my own crystal-blue eyes and for a moment, it was as if the world had frozen and we were destined to have met, I was already in love with her. Her skin was sun kissed and tan. Then I realized she probably was either Latina or from Asia or the Middle East, Naomi smiled and added with a accent I could not place 

"C'mon! Lets go see your desk, unless you just wanna start drooling just staring into my eyes."

She then rolled her eyes and I followed, I swear I could hear Captain Waterstone laughing behind us.


	3. Prima Facie

Naomi and I sat down at our desks and I looked around, it felt so unreal and so different than what it was like to be a beat cop. It felt good for sure and I liked that I was so far on a good start. I blushed as Naomi smiled at me and she began "You can stop blushing right now." She rolled her eyes and I laughed before the Captain came over with our first case and I was briefed that there was a potential leak in the department due to informants and officers being ambushed and killed at an alarming rate and that scared me so much. A leak in any department was bad news, if that was bad enough, imagine being the new guy. Even I noticed that they seemed to be having trouble hooking up with a drug dealer named Calderone. Naomi told me "We keep getting beat at every corner and every bust, its a dud so far as of lately. Nobody is sure why this keeps happening. My partner Ricky Nolan, who was my partner before you, was killed by a car bomb." I took a look at the crime scene pictures and I looked at the images that the traffic cameras took, I felt like I had to say this to them, but they were going to be pissed off...oh well, if I was right, I probably could get a promotion and if I was wrong, I was sure as hell gonna transfer the hell out of this solar system for good. I began carefully "This leak you speak of, I think this leak may be closer to home than you think...this leak may be someone you know. Now, I'm not making any accusations here Naomi, but I think you are trusting the wrong people...I have a feeling that someone close to you is the traitor." Naomi snorted "Now, I don't know where you come from, but that is a crock load of bullshit right there. We run this ship tight and mighty and we don't tolerate traitors of any kind." I rolled my eyes and began "Now isn't the time to start me on the 'blue thin line' routine bull. You know its bullshit and so do I. Now, as I was saying, the traitor isn't just gonna say 'here I am, I betrayed the team, please arrest me'" We decided to do something a little unconventional by having me go undercover by myself, fresh off the streets and as a corrupt cop, it was frightening because I wasn't used to being undercover all by myself as I was gonna bait out the dirty cop. I didn't expect to be in a dingy nightclub where drinks flowed and it smelled like cigarettes and the strobe light effects flashed and scintillated all over the reflecting surfaces, it was dark all around and I could see prostitutes dancing and twirling on poles and I looked around before a man in a silk blue shirt and black dress pants and black tie sat down next to me and said "Look, you better be who you say you are. Boy if I find out you are one of them informants..." He then drew a line across his neck in a meaning that was all too clear, my blood ran cold in my veins, I was praying to all the gods that were in existence that somehow I would make it out of this. I knew that somehow, I had to make it through this all on my own as he began "So...where's the dough?" I swallowed thickly before pulling up a metal Halliburton suitcase filled with 100,000 dollars and he opened it up before handing over two keys of cocaine. I then sliced up the package wide open and he added quickly "Ah, ah, ah! You gotta test out the merchandise...the old fashioned way..." I knew what he exactly meant. He wanted me to do a loyalty test. He wanted me to snort the cocaine in front of him. I was scared and I didn't want to, but what choice did I exactly have? I had to establish my identity as Samuel Hess. I scooped out a lump of the powdery drug onto the glittering black countertop using a knife, and I formed straight lines nervously as he smiled with hungry, dark, glittering eyes and I pinched my left nostril shut and I snorted the whole line in one shot and everything felt so much different...and not in a good way. I had just snorted a year's salary worth of cocaine and it made me so sick and guilty feeling as the high punched me hard in the stomach and I felt my head spin. My mind felt as though it was stuck in tar, and I wanted to throw up on his expensive loafers. I noticed that they looked very expensive as I fumbled with my badge and slurred "Y...You're....under arrest..." And the whole bar was soon swarmed with cops...or I think it was, as I was surrounded with visions of my inner demons haunting me, hunting me down as Naomi screamed at the dirty cop "ALL THIS TIME! ALL THOSE DATES! ALL THE TIMES WE HUNG OUT! I TRUSTED YOU!!!" I stumbled over, trying to stop her from punching him, I had to stop her from beating the asshole into a bloody pulp. Yes I was mad, but it would hurt our case and the last thing we needed was the case to be dropped because of a technicality and I felt the world spin and dance and twirl around me. I couldn't think coherently at all, my head felt like a bunch of angry bees swarming in complete chaos, thinking at all was impossible so I just gave up and stumbled after Naomi as the ex cop was taken to jail. Naomi began "You probably should hand me the car keys Ed. I don't its such a good idea for you to drive while high." I felt snappy at that moment and snorted "I think I can drive. I'm capable." Naomi sighed "We know you're capable. I'm just saying maybe you shouldn't drive...that's all" My head was abuzz as I half heartedly tossed her the keys to my Camry and I sat in the passenger seat and I closed my eyes, trying to nurse my coke hangover...this was going to be one hell of a mess to untangle tomorrow but for now, I just couldn't muster the energy to care at all.


	4. Mala in se

I can't remember most of what happened once I passed out in the car. I later was told I started inanely babbling about nonsensical things, one thing that concerned Naomi was me saying 

"I can't get his hands off of me no matter how much I try."

She seemed really worried when she told me that I said that. There was a concern in her eyes and it scared me, I wasn't sure if I could just trust her with a part of me that haunted me forever since that day it occurred. I don't think I'll ever recover because Father Donovan stole a part of me, stole my innocence and destroyed it forever. I'll never forgive him for what he had done to me, it's a damn miracle that I didn't spiral and start becoming a serial killer or some bullshit. I still can't stop blaming myself for what had happened that night, that night, I should have woken up and I should have screamed, but why didn't I? My whole entire body that night was frozen in terror, praying that he wouldn't strangle and kill me and go on a killing spree. 

Naomi also told me that I started acting aggressive every time she came near me to help me up or hold me. She said I started cursing and crying. That scared me the most. What I do remember was waking up the next morning with a pounding hangover as if I had drunk an entire keg of beer and a SUV smashed into my side. I was extremely sore and tired and I wanted to puke until every damn cavity in my body was emptied out. Naomi yelped as she bolted up from her chair and then ran over with a clean bucket and I threw up, I threw up so much I thought I would die throwing up. I distinctly felt someone's gentle but calloused hand rubbing my back as I vomited and I couldn't help but throw up more. Perhaps snorting an entire damn line of cocaine on my first try wasn't a great idea after all. I croaked

"If you leave me to be undercover like that again, I swear I will report you to the Police Chief, that was fucking reckless and beyond evil. Totally evil of you all. Protocol always says to never, ever fucking go undercover alone. Who in their unholy bullshit suggested that I should go alone? Why I ought to ruin them the way that line ruined me!"

Naomi calmly replied 

"You were never alone Ed, trust me, we would never leave a rubber ducky like you float out into the ocean of sharks alone, we had several cops under cover as patrons to make sure that the deal went down smooth sailing, now stop worrying yourself mister Choir Boy and relax...okay. Now, I have never nursed a coke hangover and I certainly do not know how to, so you're going to be resting, drinking water and not doing anything strenuous okay?"

I just nodded wordlessly and added "I'm feeling the furthest thing from human right now, my head is hurting."

Naomi sighed loudly and began "I have no idea what medication or what dosage I can give you...I really don't want you to get sick."

"Then take me to the fucking hospital. I really don't care, just help me get rid of this headache!"

Naomi rolled her eyes and snapped "Gee, you sure are terrible company!"

"Just wait an hour and you'll see what 'wonderful' company I can be." I snarled back

She acquiesced and and I could hear her rummaging through my cabinets for medication and then she produced a bottle of Tylenol and dumped two pills into my palm and handed me a glass of water with some ice cubes inside and then I took the pills one at a time and then swallowed them with water. The pills themselves were a bit big and were the size of my pinky fingertip and I swallowed them nervously and laid down, I closed my eyes to rest them and before I knew it, I was asleep again. I don't know for how long I slept, but when I did wake up, the sun was more slanted towards my side and it looked like as if it was around late afternoon and I saw a stack of paperwork on my nightstand. When I checked my drawer, I found my pager, badge and my gun and I sighed in relief. My sheets stank of sweat and it felt oddly gross and I sat up and threw them in the wash and then grabbed some fresh sheets and showered. Its funny, I can take a million showers in my lifetime, but I'll never be able to wash off the stains of sexual abuse that I endured because of Father Donovan's evil. I started crying in the shower, my tears mixing with the water and feeling gross overall, I hated how I treated her so bad. I have to make it up to Naomi as soon as I'm able to do so. 

The next day we were at work and things seemed to be relatively quiet, but I was body slammed with a ton of paperwork and I hated it so much. It was as if the gods somehow had punished me by handing me a wheel barrowful of paperwork and I was mad at the universe thinking that I could be the butt of their jokes like that.

I just sighed as I started with the paperwork and just like that, I was hit with another case. And I was assigned to hunt down a serial killer who was murdering cops, this made it personal in so many ways that I couldn't even explain. These were cops that weren't even on duty when they were murdered, they were off duty and in some cases, they were asleep when they were murdered, and the homicide division was stretched thin, so they sent me and Naomi over as loaners until the bastard was caught. In the end, it took a routine traffic stop to bring the madman down and it was Detective First Grade Odafin Tutuola who had managed it with his partner Detective First Grade John Munch. I did not realize it then, but my life would be changed forever in their presence and that they would make a greater impact on the story of my life than I thought they ever would. 


	5. a priori

I wanted to to open up about my developing feelings for Naomi to someone but it was hard to know who to trust and who not to trust, especially when you are in a department where trust is paramount and yet scarce to find. It was hard to trust because the so called 'brother in blue' could easily sell you out and stab your back. It was terrifying because this happened to Naomi's partner and I don't think she was ready to trust me yet, I honestly didn't blame her for her lack of trust in me, we hardly even knew each other and suddenly we were tossed together and without warning, me and Naomi were partners. Besides, I wasn't sure if Naomi even felt the same way about me at all and that scared me the most, being hurt was something I was all too familiar with since I was a teenager when Father Donovan broke me inside. 

I wasn't quite sure what did it, but I also had feelings for a male, handsome, sexy co-worker named Donald Cragen, he was a Sargent and my heart fluttered every time he smiled or spoke, It drove me crazy with insanity to know that I could be falling in love with my own coworker, not especially a male coworker. I was scared that they would fire me from the NYPD, or worse, my coworkers would let me bleed to death without backup to come and I hated the thought of how homophobia was so rampant in our workforce despite it our duty to "Protect and to serve". How fucking ironic that we, the policeman hated gays and lesbians and bisexuals and transgendered people and yet they were our fellow New Yorkers, they deserved to be heard and to be respected. My mother hated gay people and she derisively would spit horrible slurs at them that would make you gasp if you listened to her speak. I really wished I could understand why my feelings were so mixed up between men and women. I honestly wished that I knew what was going on with me at this point.

One day Vice requested my services to go undercover in a gay bar and so I went, dressed like one of them, in pink and frilly clothes and the rest of the precinct was giggling their asses off at me, frankly I didn't get what was so funny about me dressing in pink. I thought it was a beautiful and pure color and it represented strength and courage and love. I liked pink because it always brought out my blue eyes and made my brown hair look more crisp and sharp against anything including suits. I thought they were annoying as hell and I was planning to buy pink dress shirts just to piss those guys off and my, oh my, I would enjoy the hell out of the looks on their faces. 

I then went to a hole in the wall nightclub, the vibe here was much more louder and there were neon strip lights flashing dazzling colors and there was a disco ball hanging in the air. I could see tube lights forming the words of the night club named "The Crescendo" it seemed an oddly fitting name for such a beautiful place like this. The dance floor looked like a chessboard and there was a dj playing techno music by remixing records and gay men strip teased each other while dancing and twirling next to poles. I could see men in booths kissing as if their lives depended on it and I could see oodles of people standing near the bar, asking for drinks and rubbing their hands on each others asses. I suddenly became very, very thirsty and I could see things there that would leave you in shock and awe of what I did see in that night club. The whole room was lit in dark purple and blue ambient lighting and I could see drag queens singing in a corner and flirting openly and it made me in a way wanted to become one of them. I wanted to cast off the constraints of gender roles and heteronormativity and be free, be free from all of it and be one of them and explore my hidden side. 

I then sat down, waiting to bait out a drug dealer who had been giving cocaine laced with a deadlier new drug called fentanyl and it was killing gay men at an alarming rate. Not a lot of people knew but gay men were also dying of AIDS and nobody seemed to care why it was happening at all and it was so heartbreaking. I sat down next to the dealer and the dealer, as a caveat, forced me to have sex with him as a transaction to prove I was gay. I was terrified that I would get killed and he tied up my wrists to a pole behind me, nobody seemed to notice and once again, my voice didn't seem to work. I hated my damn throat, every fucking time I needed it to work, it refused to obey me, I hated how I lay there limp and tired and on the verge of tears after what was said and done. I refused to report the rape after someone untied me and got me dressed. I then managed to get him arrested thanks to Naomi tripping him and she handcuffed him afterwards. I felt like passing out from the humiliation I had endured and I wanted to throw up, but first I needed to finish my paperwork, I went back to the precinct, shaken and traumatized but I didn't care as I typed up the case report and then went to take a shower. I tried to water down the part where he raped me, but in the end, because there was no evidence I had been raped, there were no charges filed for that. 

I hated myself more than ever, feeling torn in between and I wanted to confirm I was straight, so I asked Naomi nervously one day out for some coffee and said 

"Would you like to come out to the coffee shop down the corner for some coffee and donuts?"

She snarked and giggled

"Donuts? How stereotypical of you, you know cops don't eat donuts right?"

I just rolled my eyes and added 

"Okay, okay It's a lame joke, call it a mulligan and say we are going for strudel and coffee? Sounds great?"

She nodded and I followed her, hopeful that things would turn a corner for me.


	6. Ad Infinitum

I sat down with Naomi at the local café, I was in love with her very much, but I really did like the thought of perhaps dating a man, it was so hard to determine why I felt this way, I felt so confused and lost about myself and yet, around Naomi, I felt as though I could breathe and that there was a sense of clarity when I was with her. I liked how she was tough and no nonsense and she was amazing at her job. 

One day we were asked to do an undercover job, going deep undercover in a mafia family as a married couple and we were supposed to infiltrate the mafia, and it was scary beyond recognition, on my gauge of fright, I think I nearly collapsed and had a nervous breakdown when meeting the don and shaking his hand. His hands were calloused and the nails were cracked and his skin was wrinkled and veiny, his gaze was sharp and piercing, as if he already knew all of my secrets inside of me, as if he knew that I didn't belong in the family, as if he knew my true identity. 

That day I was dressed in one of them suits you would imagine that a sleazebag lawyer would wear, with a vest and cufflinks, tie bar and the works. I looked like one of them mob boss lawyers and Naomi looked like a powerful politician with her purple glittery dress on, that was cut in just the right places and her body was just shaped perfectly like an hour glass and more than that, she was beautiful deep within and I admired that about her, every inch of her was beautiful and glamorous and she looked like a queen in her makeup and her hair all tied up and hanging down her shoulders in bouncy brown curls that glowed like silk in the dim ambiance lighting of the club that we were in.

The don smiled as he added "We want the money from you, five hundred thousand dollars in advance, we will not disappoint you, family and friends discount after all. But...you must compete for the shipment, It is nine hundred keys of cocaine, and...well...everybody wants the shipment and yet, in order for this to be fair, we shall arrange for a boat race. Everyone deposits five hundred thousand for the entry fee. Good luck."

I was nervous about the boat race and One Police Precinct had no confidence in my or Naomi's boating skills so we improvised by siphoning off of Jordan Meemark and Hayden August's drug bust off of a teenage drug trafficker from a local college and I then pleaded my case to Jordan 

"C'mon, we need this to make a record breaking bust, please! We need this bust to happen!"

August groaned "You know that if you lose that boat race, we are on the damn financial hook for your mess Tucker?"

"Yea I know, but please do me this favor."

He sighed loudly and then handed the big suitcase full of cash over and I was able to put it in for our entrance fee and Naomi brought over her Wellcraft Scarab 38 KV boat. It was a sleek and beautiful boat and I was impressed by how civil asset forfeiture had brought in for us, it was stunning to see the snow white boat, painted with blue and purple and cyan tailings that grew darker towards the bow of the boat and on the sides of the boat. I glanced at the blue gradient striping that ran across the the boat and into the soft leather seating inside and I was pleasantly surprised by how fast and yet how luxurious the boat was despite its small size. The engine was small yet powerful and I loved its simplicity. I and Naomi put on our helmets and she sat at the pilot's seat and drove the boat skillfully to the start line, mafia families and drug traffickers lined the stands and smoked and drank, while bookies took bets from the spectators and I could see the tall buildings that lined the East river loom above us and it was frightening to see them stand so tall and so high. Seeing them so tall gave me anxiety and vertigo, I never liked heights as a young person, they terrified me so much. 

When the race started, everybody's boats took off at the mark and we zoomed like bullets down the river, and we were significantly behind the pack of boats as I cursed. I knew that if we lost, our chances of making the bust would be lost forever if we didn't win. However I noticed something suspicious out of the corner of my eye when I saw one boat meander off into another part of the river and I pointed that out to Naomi, and she nodded as we drove the boat, at this point, Naomi decided to add more speed to the boat, pushing the engine to its limit as we passed the pack of boats and we started gaining the lead and then we suddenly won. It was victory night after we had made dozens of arrests and we drank as if the Giants won the super bowl. It was at Forlini's that night that I said to myself

"I am very much in love with Naomi. I love her more than anything in the whole entire world."

I blushed as she proudly raised her glass in a toast and toasted to my skills and my detective instincts and we all cheered and then drank. I then went up to her adding "Would you want me to take you home, you probably shouldn't drive home. I just want to make sure that you get home safe."

She nodded and then I dropped her off and gave her a big fat hug and thanked her for the toast and then I drove home thinking about her all night long and how I was deeply in love with her. I hoped that she felt the same way about me as I felt the way about her.


	7. Trial de novo

It was now the New Year's Eve and despite this day being a holiday for many, this day of mayhem was a day of work and more work for us. We couldn't sit down to think, much less breathe for even a second and we were dealing with a flood of noise complaints and 911 calls. I especially hated dealing with the 911 call of Mrs. Marlo, she would keep complaining that the T.V was telling her that the government was controlling our minds through our TV's, she was very much a cross old lady who had a thick mop of wavy white hair and she had big turtle shell eyeglass lenses and she would always yell angrily at everybody and anybody that would come near her. But somehow she was convinced that I was going to marry her _I wasn't ever gonna marry that old lady even if that witch was the only woman on this godforsaken planet._

She did definitely creep me out for sure and I didn't like how my gut feeling was almost always right. I sighed as I spoke with her slowly and explained 

"The government cannot possibly mind control you because it would take too much time and energy to control one mind, much less hundreds of millions of them."

She screamed "That's what they want you to think! They use their programming to control you!"

I sighed deeply as a lightbulb popped in my head and then I said "Well, if you're concerned about the mind controlling programs affecting your mind, why don't you get rid of your TV? It would make sense for you to get rid of something that is affecting you in a negative way...correct?"

She slowly seemed to be putting together what I was trying to say, I let her take her time understanding what I meant. She then realized that there was a little bit of logic behind what I had just said and realized "Ohhh..."

I then added "I think you should call someone you know to get rid of the Tv, that way you aren't bothered by it so much...okay?"

She nodded and said finally "I will ask my son Tom to remove it for me."

I then added "Is there any thing else I can help with tonight?"

She then replied "No, and have yourself a good and safe New Year."

I nodded in return and added "You have yourself a good night and have a happy new year, thank you for your well wishes."

I then left the building and added to Naomi "I think I may have just solved the problem for us."

She smiled and put her arm around my shoulder and I turned pink as I watched the snow above us fall and soon we watched the crystal ball drop down as the timer counted down to zero, however, what I did not expect, was that Naomi would sweep me in for a deep kiss, and to be honest, I actually loved it so very much. Her breath tasted like peppermint candies and hot chocolate and vanilla. I could not describe to you how the moment finally felt after six dates and us just taking it nice and slow for a little bit before we disclosed. I held her close to me, my arm wrapped around her waist as the snowflakes melted on our heads and fireworks boomed right above us, casting colorful lights above us in the sky. When I opened my eyes, I stared into her warm, caramel eyes and smiled and I knew then that the future was bright and hopeful and that we would soon be able to grow together. 

Because of the bust back in late September involving the mafia, I was promoted to Detective 2nd grade and yet still, I was the junior detective. I still couldn't lead or issue directives or any commands to the lower ranking officers, I needed to take the Sargent's test for that. I was soon brought in by the higher ranking officers and they wanted me to take a Investigative career track that would all but guarantee that I would be stuck as Detective 1st grade forever and I was having none of that as I firmly told them that my intent was to go into the Administrative Career Track and that I planned to work my way to 1PP and build my career and flourish. I was not about to be upstaged by my brother in Seattle and dishonor the family name. I wanted to carry the family name with pride, despite my family being broken into pieces.

It was around July of that month that I decided to propose to Naomi with a ring that I bought from a antique jewelry store so this ring cost me a bit more than what I was able to afford, but for women, a ring was a status symbol and I remembered to disclose our relationship to One Police Precinct so that we would not have conflict of interest issues popping up in future cases because it could lead to technicalities in certain cases. It also meant that we couldn't be partners anymore and that if one of us was kidnapped or taken hostage, the other would be unable to think clearly so it was best that I would be assigned to someone else. 

I soon was assigned to Detective First Grade Shawn Wilson and Naomi was assigned to Detective 3rd grade Elliot Stabler. What I didn't realize was that Elliot Stabler would change my life forever, just like Fin would. It was pure insanity how a person briefly enters and makes a large impact on my life later. All I knew now was that I had a beautiful and bright future...or so I thought I did, then one day tragedy struck me, and it struck me hard. It blindsided me in such a way, I never thought I would be prepared to endure such horrors, but I was forced to endure them anyway. 


	8. Nolo Contendere

It was a unseasonably cool spring during 1988 and history was becoming tumultuous and New York city as well as Miami city were beginning to make history, and not in a good way either. Drug overdose deaths were spiking and cartel deaths were skyrocketing, the sicario's bodies kept piling up so high that commercial freezer trucks had to be used for the purpose of storing the bodies of those who died because there was no more room left in the morgue. People were dying left and right and it was terrible to see the blood running like rivers through our streets and there was nothing we could do to stop it. And don't get me started on the rise of the mob and the five mafias including the Gambino, the Columbo, the Genovese, the Lucchese, and the Bonanno families, their destruction and the havoc they were wreaking on us all was _insane_. I could go on and on about what the hell they owned, but rather, the question would be _what didn't they own?_

I was especially terrified of what would happen to my fiancée and me if they tried to proposition either of us to be dirty cops, I know this for sure, I would never ever compromise my ideals and my values as a NYPD police officer just for a short gain in wealth. I knew that all evil started with even one dirty penny touching my hand and it would be all over for me. And yet, the division wanted me to go undercover as a drug dealer for a rival cartel and I was terrified. I had every right to be terrified. 

That night me and Sargent Gordon Wilson from the Organized crime division decided to go together undercover, I was nervous because I was assuming a new identity with a new partner and the mafia was notorious for shooting people whenever they felt like it. I went undercover to sell one of the traffickers drugs, it was a two month surveillance operation and it was lengthily and painstaking as well. We had a lot of resources invested in this and we were determined to not let them slip by us. We were already facing financial struggles thanks to one police precinct and them being stuck up their ass about funding while Miami and other police departments were getting the best of technologies to fight the War on Drugs. 

I hated how politics was constantly hindering our ability to deal with the mess that was destroying our city and destroying us from the inside out and corrupting us all. It made me sick. Very very sick inside. It was that night just as I was about to pull out the Halliburton when one of the suited bodyguards opened fire on me in the docks and the bullets ripped into my side, I fell backwards as the pain exploded into my side. My body was alight with pain and there was nothing in the world my mind could focus on but the pain. At that moment, nothing else mattered except trying to stop the bleeding and I grabbed Gordon's hand, terrified of dying before I could get the chance to marry my fiancée. Gordon, to his credit, grabbed his tie and tied a tourniquet and held pressure on my multitude of wounds until the ambulance finally came and I finally could relax and pass out. The next time I opened my eyes I was being wheeled into the OR, I could see the medics pushing the gurney along with doctors and surgeons who were shouting out medical terms and I could see that their white gloved hands were stained red with my blood and I was trying to breathe, it was starting to get difficult to breathe when I felt a plastic mask strapped to my face and I could feel someone putting a blood pressure cuff on me. I passed out again from the pain that was terribly agonizing and it was scary. I never had seen so much blood pour out of me at once. I screamed as I could feel my vision blur and everything went dark and then I passed out. 

I woke up again, this time to a heart monitor beeping in a steady rate as Naomi slept in her chair, she looked like she was frazzled and tired in her sleep. Her hair looked like she had run her hand through it because of stress and I didn't blame her, I would have done the same thing too. Soon Naomi woke up with a start and she quickly moved closer to me and whispered "Ed? Are...are you awake? Oh god! You scared me...the doctor was worried you weren't going to make it through surgery at all. You almost died Ed!"

She sobbed in her hands, I pushed a button to sit me up as I winced in pain from the gunshot wounds and then I pulled her close and kissed her deeply. I loved her very much and I felt so bad about scaring her, she deserved better than this. Naomi didn't need to be engaged to someone like me, in a dangerous job where the next day could easily be the last day. I would never want for her to be in any pain because of me willingly inflicting it on her or for any reason whatsoever. I wished I could make her feel better as she wept. About three months later after so much physical therapy and desk duty, Naomi and I started planning our wedding, but first we needed to go undercover as a couple together, I didn't realize it then...but Naomi would die because of a tragic series of events that nobody could have ever foreseen, not even me. 

Naomi and I went to the parking garage to intercept a shipment of drugs from Columbia, we were to pose as a wealthy couple trying to buy some cocaine for some wealthy party in upstate NY, I guess the rich really love their damn blow when it comes to getting an edge on the competition. What was worse that even poor people in the Bronx did this shit as well and OD'ed on this stuff in disproportionate rates like we had never seen since the Great Depression. That day she fidgeted with her sparkly dress, she seemed less like herself, she seemed anxious. That was not good at all, it was a bad sign of what was to come. I held her hand and whispered that everything would be okay and that we would soon cuddle and watch some shitty soap opera when the drove over with a truck, it was painted in the official logo of a plumbing company that was the front for the cartel and ran drugs for those who paid straight up cash for the drugs. The man was outright seedy looking and was wearing a pair of cargo pants and a button up shirt, he had one of those beaked hats on and smiled 

"So you and your missus are going to throw a party?"

I nodded "Yeah, now show your goods."

He raised his hands in mock surrender and began "Calm down. We haven't gotten to the good part yet eh?"

I just rolled my eyes, sticking to my cover as the asshole billionaire wall street trader and added 

"I guess not, but you better move your sorry ass before I find someone else to show me the same shit without the theatrics"

The man cursed in his language and spat out something like "Gringo" I pretended to not hear as he opened the backdoor to the van and holy moly, the back of the fucking van was stuffed and packed with pallets of cocaine, it made the East river bust seem like _nothing in comparison_ to this bust. But just as I could start negotiating for the deal to go down, suddenly motorcycles revved up and drove by us, and before I could react or reach for my ankle pistol, gunfire erupted. Chaos and madness ensued as the drug dealer fell to the ground leaking inky blood as I pulled my snub nosed revolver and fired two rounds at the driver of the motorcycle and the driver slumped over dead and the motorcycle crashed onto its side, the passenger who was the gun toting asshole fell onto his side and he quickly raised his hands in the air as I barked, aiming the pistol at the son of a bitch "DON'T MOVE! DON'T MOVE!"

I handcuffed him, and when I looked back, I gasped in horror, right next to the dead dealer's body...was my dead fiancée's body. I let out a scream, a loud, primal scream, my beautiful soulmate, my future wife...she was dead forever. She was never going to come back and my soul shattered as I sobbed and sobbed. I don't remember taking the criminal to the car, I don't remember being held back from punching them, but what I do remember is me running over to desperately try and save Naomi even if it was futile in the end. I tried to do CPR for so long, my hands were shaking and bruised and my vision was blurred with tears. Myles pulled me away as the coroner wrapped her body and then the drug dealers body in black body bags. It struck me hard by this metaphor that no matter what we do, or feel or how rich or poor we are, we will end up in the same fate...dead in black body bags. 


	9. ad quod damnum

All I could do was watch, and I didn't realize that a bullet had struck my left arm this whole time and I was bleeding all over my future wife as I was doing CPR. As I sat down in the stretcher, I numbly gazed at the concrete floor, painted red with blood, the blood of the guilty and the innocent. Isn't it strange that the blood of the innocent and the guilty are red? As the medic patched up my arm and wrapped a shock blanket around me, the world around me just shrank to me and my own grief as I sobbed uncontrollably, I could weep as much as I could all by myself here in the back of the ambulance, nobody would judge me for my horrible and terrifying grief. I could hear the medic saying 

"He's in shock, he cannot have anyone ride with him Captain. It is wise to leave him be."

I didn't even bother look up once as my tears flowed down like rivulets down my face. I lay down on the stretcher, looking up at the ceiling of the ambulance as I was hit with a fresh wave of tears all over again. I could hear someone shut the metal ambulance doors and slap on the back twice and I could hear the siren and lights turn on as the ambulance left the parking garage. I never wanted to see this fucking place again, I hated how this job had killed Naomi and that there was nothing but grief and rage in my heart. I wanted to murder every one of those cartel members, but it would destroy my career, and the medic was gentle with cleaning and disinfecting my bullet wound and then soon the ambulance doors opened and I was wheeled out to the ER triage room and someone inserted a IV drip in me, I normally had a severe aversion to needles that paralyzed me with screams and terror, but this time? Nothing at all. I barely reacted as the .25 gauge needle plunged into my arm. 

I didn't even react when the Nurse tried to speak with me, I just handed over my police badge and gun and ankle pistol like a day after hard work and she took them out, as if she was used to seeing utterly broken, disastrous people like me. I lay in the stretcher and filled out the forms wordlessly and then soon signed the consent forms for myself since Naomi was my medical proxy and she was now dead and that meant I would have to transfer Medical Proxy powers to perhaps my twin brother. Wait, I forgot to mention that he and I have started using phone calls instead of emails to communicate with each other and he was so excited to be my best man at the wedding...this is going to crush him as well because he was excited to help us start a new beginning and now that just might go down the drain. 

The Anesthesiologist then strapped the mask to my face and said in a clinical tone "Count down from one hundred, Detective Tucker."

"One hundred...ninety nine, ninety eight...ninety seven..."

And I was blissfully asleep.

I then woke up several hours later, I blinked and saw a man, he looked very much like me except a little bit less tan than me and slightly more wrinkled and a few more strands of white hair than me. I wondered who he was and I somehow had the gut feeling I knew who he was, he was my twin brother and it really hurt me deep inside that it took Naomi's tragic murder to bring us back together. I saw that my left arm was in a sling and heavily bandaged, the bullet was probably put in a evidence bag and taken to the precinct. The man woke up and fixed his thick, black rimmed glasses immediately, I noticed a vase of Rhododendrons in a corner and I croaked, my throat feeling parched 

"I need some water please".

Jason nodded and brought over a jug filled with water and filled the glass and fed me the water, I didn't trust any of my arms to hold the glass of water and I was so weak and tired already. I wanted to weep some more, I just wanted to show Jason how painful my loss was and how lonesome I felt because of Naomi's death. I didn't understand how could the world be so absolutely cruel in taking her away and not taking me instead. And by the way, spare me that 'It was her time to die bullshit' I almost socked someone in the damn jaw because of that awful, belligerent statement. There is _NO_ time to die, ever, there is no right time to up and die at the least painful moment because we are never, _EVER_ going be ready to let that loved one go... _EVER._

He then held my hand and teared up as he began:

"I came over as soon as I could after I heard what had happened from the Captain."

I just sobbed all over again, another fresh wave of sobs attacking me, he looked very sympathetic and through my tears, I could see that he was in tears as well as he rubbed my arm and we held each others hands, I couldn't stop crying, knowing that Naomi was truly gone forever and that there was nothing that I could do anymore.

Planning the funeral was hard, mom and dad came in as well and it was strange, my fiancée and I spoke of inviting my family, all of them to see each other and make it a happy event at our wedding and now, it took her funeral to bring them together. I planned to have her buried in her dress blues and in her coffin at her feet, her wedding dress lay perfectly folded along with her favorite book _Gone With The Wind._ Her body had too many bullet holes in her for there to be an open casket funeral, so it was a closed casket. I numbly picked out the flowers, the arrangements, the invitations, the reception for the wake, I picked out her favorite music to be played at the funeral, it was a beautiful song that she loved listening to and I then wrote the obituary and sent it to the newspaper to be printed. it read:

Naomi Woolworth 

1952-1988

"Born in Tampa Bay, Florida to Francine Woolworth and Kevin Woolworth in April 16th 1952, she graduated with High Honors from Tampa Bay high school and then graduated with a bachelor's of science in chemistry, and found employment in the NYPD as a civilian consultant in 1973 and then joined the NYPD in 1974. She graduated from the class of 1975 with the highest honors and was awarded the Meritorious Police Duty Breast Bar as well as the Combat Cross Breast Bar and the Honorable Mention Breast Bar. She was killed in the line of duty while during a narcotics investigation. She is survived by her brother Sgt. Andy Woolworth and her sister Det. Amy Woolworth and her fiancée Det. Edward Tucker."

I sobbed and wailed uncontrollably as I finished the obit. This was real, so very real, unlike the denial I used to have for days, and now her family was coming over and it was gonna be a very, VERY painful funeral. 


	10. ad coelum

I woke up and I slammed my fist on the alarm clock as it blared, dreading this day, my body hurt all over, especially my bullet wound. It was still very much fresh and in pain from the trauma I had endured and I forgot to take my pain pill, I was going to be very much fucked if I did take my pain pill and very much fucked if I didn't, but I would rather be awake and in pain than to be asleep at my fiancée's funeral so I decided to leave the pills until later after the funeral. I then slid out of bed, my arm stinging and burning horribly as I tried to disturb it as little as possible and I gritted my teeth, tears from pain were forming in my eyes and I hated it so much. I decided to go shower, and fast. I didn't want to smell like a pig sty while burying Naomi. 

I then carefully and tentatively wrapped a plastic bag around my left arm so that water wouldn't soak my wound and bandages and then I turned on the showerhead and then I stepped inside and let the water wash me down a little, then I grabbed some Selsun Blue and squeezed some onto my right hand and then massaged the soap through my head, determined to bathe myself without anybody's help, it would be rather embarrassing if I asked for Jason's help to help me shower. He might be my twin brother, but I was not comfortable having him see my body as it is...ever. I could hear him knocking on the door as he called out

"Hey if you fall in there, just scream for me okay?"

I just chuckled sadly and rolled my eyes and then added "Okay Jason. Just listen for my screams or else I will haunt you if I drown in the tub!"

I could hear Jason snickering in the corner and then added "Okay, if you say so."

I then scrubbed my brown locks of hair and washed them clean and then put on conditioner afterwards and let it sit for a couple minutes and then washed it out as well, washing my hair took twice as long because I was trying to keep the movement of my left arm to a minimum as it was throbbing already and driving me nuts as it was. I needed those drugs to help me through the day, it was already becoming intolerable without the Hydrocodone I needed to not start screaming and thrashing horribly around in pain. I then grabbed some Irish Spring and then squeezed some soap on the pouf and then scrubbed myself all over and then I washed the soap off and then I wrapped the towel around me and that's when it hit me and I broke down sobbing as I gazed into the moist, water fogged mirror in front of me that I actually was going to be burying my fiancée, that this was finally it and my heart was breaking into millions of pieces. 

I then walked into my bedroom and found my dress blues, and my shoes lying perfectly on my bed along with my underclothes and some fresh bandages and the antibiotic cream. I then unwrapped my bandage and gazed at the bullet wound, it still was very much fresh and red looking and then I put antibiotic cream as well as corticosteroid cream and then grabbed the fresh gauze and then held them down...but I was struggling so I yelled

"Hey Jason? Now would be a great time to show up and help me! Please Jason!"

He then called back "I'm coming Ed! Don't worry." 

I tightened the towel round my waist so that it wouldn't fall down by accident and give him an unwanted view of my nether regions. I then let him in my room and he respectfully came in, and grabbed the gauze and then said 

"Can you hold the gauze for me? I'll do the taping for you."

I numbly nodded and then held down the gauze as he wrapped it tightly, but not so tight that it would cut off the circulation to the rest of my arm and hand and then added softly 

"Do you want help getting dressed. I promise I won't judge."

I nodded quickly and then I dressed into my underclothes as he looked away and then he helped me into my pants and then helped me tie up the belt and then Jason helped button up my collared shirt which was starched white and had the precinct number in brass pins tacked onto the corners of each side of the collar. Then Jason helped tie on the tie that went round my neck under my collar carefully, he tied it deftly and in a skilled manner in a Four in Hand Knot and then opened the small cardboard box and pulled out the gold plated tie clip and then clipped down my tie properly and then helped the jacket onto me and then pinned my badge and ribbon bars onto me and verified to make sure they were in the proper order and he helped me with my sling on and then Jason helped me put my gloves on and then helped me tie my shoes and soon we were ready to go to the funeral. Jason looked deeply concerned at me, dressed in his own dress blues from the SPD and he was looking intently at me, as if he were expecting me to breakdown, I was not going to do that...not now. 

The funeral was at a nice church, it was the same church we were planning to get married at and now, I had to hold her funeral here. It hurt so much and it scarred me so deep to realize that there was no chance in hell that I would ever see her again. She was gone forever. Soon the funeral started and the Priest did the funeral rituals and I began to break down, nearby, I could see her siblings weeping incessantly as well. I could not stop crying, the waves of grief were drowning me and battering me to pieces, my arm hurt like hell and I conveniently forgot to take my pain meds, fucking perfect.

After Commissioner Henry delivered his speech, I went up to deliver mine for Naomi. I gazed at her flag draped coffin and took a deep breath before delivering the speech, I nearly broke down in the middle of my speech and my voice trembled...constantly and then once I finished, I broke down into tears uncontrollably and couldn't stop. Soon the coffin was taken to the graveyard, the flag folded and the six gun salute was performed and the coffin was buried. And I cried so much all over again, I cried and wailed and screamed for Naomi to come back, but she was six feet under and she was cold as ice. She could never again respond. My stomach turned as the backhoe of the dirt digger push the pile of dirt into the hole she lay in...a hole that could never again be filled ever in my heart no matter how hard I tried. 


	11. Animus nocendi

I then went to the car and sat in the passenger seat and Jason sat in the driver's seat and turned the ignition to my Camry and the car revved to life as the lights turned on and just like that, as if a light switch was flipped, I broke down sobbing uncontrollably and I wailed and wailed loudly, I distinctly remember wailing and screaming as someone rubbed my back, my tears streamed down, mixing with my snot as I wailed and sobbed harder and harder. My chest heaved and sobs wracked by body as I cried harder and harder, my emotions were drowning me all around and it hurt so much to be all by myself now that she was dead and gone forever. My chest hurt with the screaming I did, my eyes felt sore and red all over from the crying I did and yet, my eyes felt like a spigot that seemed to never stop spouting off water all over the place and Jason was patient with me, driving us slowly through traffic, and all the while I was crying my eyes out, wetting all the Kleenex tissue paper I had in the car console.

Jason soon pulled the car to a stop and then I realized it was the Forlini's bar, the same bar where we had our first date and we held hands as we watched the sports and we chatted, I was very nervous talking to her, she was a very wise woman beyond her years and she was a kind and loving and every bit of her made my heart flutter, she made me believe in love in a world where love did not exist for anybody at all.

Love is an emotion like no other, it fills your heart with a light and feathery feeling like nothing in the world could ever go wrong and that everything is finally, for once, going right, and that for once, you might just have that fairy tale ending that you read of all the time and that someday, maybe just someday, you too, can have a little slice of heaven on Earth. But no, the universe doesn't give a fuck about you, your mental health or your happiness for that matter, in fact the universe revels in your agony and pain and the misery that you endure in everyday, mired in grinding mediocrity forever, because in the end, none of your efforts in the grand scheme of the universe matter, because nobody cares. I once was told 

"Ed, don't tell anybody your problems in your personal life because 80% of the world does not give a fuck and the other 20% are the people shoveling the shit in your way and are enjoying it."

My father told me that as he was recovering from the fallout from divorcing mom and I realize now how much he was right and he had some other bits of wisdom that he shared with me as someone who was an Atheist. He tried incredibly hard to tolerate my mother's religious beliefs, but in the end, he found it intolerable to live in the same house as her while she kept her preaching going on all the time. 

I then schooled my face and then drank booze and listened to her siblings deliver speeches and I listened to her co workers from the Vice division talk and deliver speeches. Soon my co workers from the Narcotics division delivered their speeches and they mourned the loss of someone who was brave and always ready to go and get the job done and was always ready to lend a helping hand to anybody who needed it.

I listened to them speak and soon I drank and drank, I didn't care much for delivering speeches or pretending to even have the energy or the formalities to do so and I was not getting out of this bar stool until the room stopped fucking spinning. I shook more hands and talked to more people and I heard from someone that I was getting another medal, well fuck, I wasn't even thinking of getting a medal, and on top of that, someone wanted me to take the test to become a Sargent, I wasn't sure I was ready to move on just yet from the job of being a detective and moving onto becoming 1PP, I didn't want to leave behind the memories of working alongside a TO and talking with them and interacting with them. Becoming a Sargent meant that I would become more independent and that I would no longer have a partner by my side anymore.

To be honest, I was more afraid than ever to be alone, and knowing that my brother was going to go back to Seattle after this amplified my insecurity, I said things I probably should not have said, and to this day, I will never forget the pain and the sadness in Jason's face when I spat out 

"Everybody leaves me! Why don't you leave as well Jason? Mom and dad both have emotionally and...and to a degree, physically have left me! Naomi was murdered! Why is it that everybody leaves me? Why? Am I really that evil? Am I that detestable that people must leave me so soon? Why do I deserve to be alone and miserly like this? Tell me why!?"

I blacked out soon after, drunk and dizzy from drinking so much vodka and wine and beer and scotch that I fainted in Jason's arms and I closed my eyes, where the darkness seeped in and there was no pain.

I woke up the next day, heavily hungover and heartbroken and tired, I ran to the toilet and threw up the contents of my stomach, my stomach was empty afterwards and I threw up some more. Jason sighed and said 

"Here's a hangover cure my aunt once made me when I stupidly decided to drink all the beer on a dare when in University of Washington. I can tell you that what you did was not a wise decision, you're lucky I took your pistol and car keys away from you as it was even before the wake. So...there's that."

He sighed and added "You really need to get therapy Ed. You're hurting a lot more than you think you are."


	12. curia advisari vult

Life became bland and colorless after the funeral, I barely thought or cared for the job I was doing, when this was the same job that murdered my fiancée, I felt deeply hollow inside. I felt like I had dishonored the family name of Tucker and it hurt so deeply inside. I felt like a failure, like someone that should have died on that concrete floor instead of Naomi, my beautiful bride. She was supposed to get married to me and we were supposed to be on a honeymoon soon, instead, I was taking time off to mourn and grieve her death at the hands of gunmen. Oh and speaking of which, I had to testify against them, the ADA's name was Ben Stone and he was a smart man, he was a wise man, but he still seemed to be someone that was afraid to cross the line or make any scenes in court. But I sensed a deep goodness in his soul, I sensed a talent for law deep within him and I hoped that my gut would not be wrong in my assessment about him. At the grand jury, Ben was able to easily indict the gunman on multiple charges including murder of a officer and attempted murder. Talking during the indictment felt like I was swallowing a bag of rocks and it was so hard to talk about the death of Naomi, I almost began to cry in the middle of court. But I knew any display of emotions would prejudice the jury and I could not afford that when the defense attorney was a powerful man who was from one of the most controversial firms that many people had ever known.

After the indictment was handed down, I breathed a intense sigh of relief as Ben told me solemnly

"Detective Ed Tucker, I promise you that I will have him behind bars. Your Fiancée will get justice. I will see to it that it happens. No matter what, I will not rest or sleep, I will work hard to make sure he never breathes free air again."

I don't claim to have intimate knowledge of the court or how the system works, the tracks in New York State were already confusing enough for a common observer. But one thing was for sure that it was common knowledge already that the court systems were packed and overcrowded with cases by the millions upon millions, a trial could take years and that was the most infuriating part, that I, too could die or be killed in the line of duty before I could enter the witness box. I was determined to testify and to make sure that son of a bitch never saw light again, I hoped that deep within, he would rot in hell before I got my hands on him. Because if I did, I would strangle that son of a bitch for pumping up my beautiful Fiancée with lead in her body and my blood boiled each time I thought of him.

I still hoped each and everyday, I would wake up to the sound of Naomi snoring and that I would be able to cuddle her once more, that I would be able to beg her and plead to her to not go undercover with me, to save her from the terrible fate, but no matter how much I was told it wasn't my fault, the more I was convinced it was. There had to be a reason that she died, there had to be a reason she had been caught in the hail of bullets and not me. It really hurt inside trying to ruminate over what could have been, what should have been. Soon Jason had to leave for Seattle and I was alone once more with my thoughts and that was the most terrifying part, I always had a fear and insecurity of being alone by myself, being alone was frightening because in a sense, I was my own worst enemy, my thoughts were poison and that being alone meant that I was forced to confront those thoughts...alone. And to be fair, I never really learned to trust anybody, my parents divorced when I was still a kid. Watching them argue and yell and scream at each other in hurtful ways and it only served to teach me what a healthy relationship should _not_ be. The fact that I was later raped at a camp served to show that I could never trust anybody of any authority position again. I still had issues around having trust for others because so many had kept breaking my trust, after all, how many times can you repair something that is so broken until you realize you can no longer piece together what has been damaged beyond recognition?

My self worth was crumbling to pieces, my confidence was reduced to rubble, I didn't have the desire or the energy to put up the wall of being peppy and happy, my face was a mask of sadness, depression and grief from loss and my face was beginning to prematurely age. Even my hair was starting to gray and turn white at the roots of my forehead and it was starting to feel embarrassing. I started to realize that it really wasn't in my best interests to be in a long term relationship...not especially when love would force me to compromise my ideals, which I absolutely would not do under any circumstances whatsoever, even if I happened to be shot up full of lead. I mean, take a look at the fucking precinct I work in, every single one of us, except for me and Naomi, before Naomi was brutally shot up, was single. Not a single one of them, not even Captain Waterstone was even dating anybody. Marriage seemed like a gamble that nobody was ready for because of how dangerous and unpredictable our jobs were. I mean, as a matter of fact, we _all_ asa police unit were completely fucked up to the point that we couldn't relate to civilians any longer. I couldn't think of anybody from units like SVU, Vice, Internal Affairs, Homicide, Organized Crime, Robbery or Kidnappings that was in a major relationship, even sometimes work relationships ended up messy so often, it was better not to get in a relationship in the first place. 


	13. de lege lata

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I accidentally posted this chapter to "You Promised, you lied" I am so sorry, but the universes of "You promised, you lied" and "Forgiving Tucker" do not cross over, and I apologize for the confusion. Ed Tucker would never cheat on his husband Sonny ever.

I'm ashamed to admit at this point, my depression got so bad, I called in for a week off, I didn't leave the house, I didn't answer the phone, I didn't do any paperwork, I didn't even bother with my personal hygiene and that is something I take personal pride in, making sure that I was neatly groomed and clean and trimmed and professional looking, but my depression was so bad that I just lay in bed, not caring to eat, drink, shower or brushing my teeth. All I could think of was Naomi and what utter terror she must have gone through in her last moments as she bled to death on the concrete floor as I chased after the motorcycle shooters. I didn't care much for even watching T.V, my depression was eating me alive and I knew that if I didn't get a handle on it, it would only get much, much worse in the very end. I was terrified of losing myself to the darkness. As a kid, the dark terrified me, the concept of it scared me shitless to the point that I had an obession of making sure that I didn't sleep in the dark, until my mother yelled at me and made me give up my nightlight when I turned eight, she berated me and called me mentally weak and pathetic and threw the nightlight at the wall and it crashed into pieces. I never forgave her for that.

And now, even now, being in the dark scared me because there were countless criminals that hid and stalked in the shadows, ready to pounce out and eat me alive, that the demons I once imagined as a child were nothing in comparison to the demons that existed in real life. There were serial killers and robbers and kidnappers and serial rapists that hid in the dark, but there were other evil monsters like them that did their work even in the broad daylight. I just didn't see the point in even fighting anymore, all I wanted to do was lie down, fall asleep for maybe a very very long time. In fact I _hoped at one point, that I would never wake up._ I wanted to feel more than this empty void feeling that I was feeling inside and yet, my arm hurt and throbbed so I had to exercise the muscles and I did the stretches. 

As I was doing the PT exercises, I could hear a banging on the door, it seemed very impatient and not something I could wave off with an excuse, I got up and sighed as I opened the door and realized that it was Detective Elliot and he added 

"Jesus your house stinks like my kids one time stunk up the house."

I sighed "All this week it felt like as if I had no energy to do anything, I guess I was more exhausted than I thought."

Elliot added "Take a bath for starters! And shave that face, you have a five o clock shadow and it's against department regulations, you have to be clean shaven. And I will also be taking you out as well. No arguing."

I could tell that Elliot would manhandle me outside if necessary so I decided to go take a bath, I could hear Elliot picking up the garbage and tossing it away and washing the dishes. When I finished with my shower, I shaved off the stubble that was starting to grow on my chin and cheeks and then rubbed some aftershave and then I got dressed in a pair of jeans and a v neck t shirt that was green colored and then I brushed my hair to the side, and that's when I started seeing more grey and white strands near the temples of my head. I knew I was getting older and older physically due to stress aging me out and there was nothing I could do. I then grabbed my keys and wallet and then went to see Elliot fixing the whole room, it was nice and clean and shiny and I felt embarrassed that my co worker was the one who cleaned it for me. Elliot interrupted my thoughts saying 

"Don't feel embarrassed seeking the help of your friends, you know you need help, and a lot of love too. You need someone to help you take care of yourself. I just hope you find someone who can do that because this right here is a big sign of depression. You need to talk to someone."

I snorted 

"Talk? _To who_? the department psychologist will ruin my career! They will destroy and obliterate any chance I have of getting promoted and you know that Elliot!"

I cried and cried a flood of tears, and before I knew it, we both were undressed, naked and in bed, and in bliss. My lips felt puckered and my body was raw and sore and I loved it so much, the pain made me forget the loss I was still processing and the grief I had been forced to endure and the waves of depression that were battering me to pieces. I noticed that Elliot had a wedding band on his left ring finger and my heart shuddered, he was already married. He didn't belong to me and he never would. It was terrifying but it was exquisite and exciting, the thrill of a forbidden lover, especially a gay lover was something I would have never dreamed of, except of in romantic novels and by god, Stabler's cupid bow lips and his sexy brown hair and his chiseled chest and oh god, the way he was artful and graceful during sex was so mind-blowing, it further made me realize that I was bisexual, I wasn't straight, not when sexy, handsome men like Stabler. I just didn't want Stabler to get hurt. He needed to go home before his wife became angry at him. I gently shook him awake and told him 

"Your wife needs you more than I do, I'll be at work tomorrow. I promise."

Stabler looked sad and broken but seemed to understand as he got dressed and left, and once again I was alone in the darkness, alone with my worst fears. 


	14. a fortiori

It was a week later that at a small ceremony in front of press, I walked to the podium as the flashbulbs went off and people sat in chairs, as they took notes and watched me take my steps towards Commissioner Henry. I was to get a breast bar of the NYPD Meritorious Police duty. I just tuned out the speech, nothing that man could ever say could justify whatever fucking award I was being given. If this was meant to be some fucking condolence prize, I wasn't fooled by their stupidity. I numbly gazed at the audience, I could see some wealthy guests, people who were drinking, thinking that this was some sort of ass lick that they could crack jokes at and laugh like everything was normal. I was not someone who was accustomed to the upper crust of society or the echelons and their arrogant ways of flouting the law. It made me frustrated because these were the same scumbags that were perpetuating the use of drugs and were the ones that were the hardest to convict and throw into prison because of their stupid rich ass lawyers that they often hired. 

If Naomi had been still alive today, she would have been my wife, she would have married me and be proudly watching me here getting this award. Perhaps in another universe this award would have meant something to me, perhaps this award would have given me a sense of happiness. But in this universe, I was a grieving man without his soulmate and I was broken hearted, no amount of rank or file or wealth or awards or titles could ever bring me happiness again. I felt brittle as Commissioner Henry mentioned Naomi several times and then he tacked the ribbon bar below the other ribbon bars I had earned. I saluted sharply and then shook his hand, I clenched my jaw, feeling like if I said anything, it was going to be _very, very_ stupid. 

After the ceremony, I found myself drinking more champagne than I found it necessary to drink, especially at the party, and there was literally nobody to stop me, I wasn't even on duty anyway, so I drank and drank. I cried in my palms, missing Naomi, missing her touch, missing her scent, missing her cuddles and her laughter and everything about her that made her Naomi. It was hurtful and painful. I drank some more and then grabbed a cab home, drunk as a skunk and incoherently babbling everywhere and sinking in my depression...fast.

I went into my house and then flopped onto the nearest couch and fell asleep, tired and dead inside. I woke up the next day to a dry mouth and a pounding headache that seemed to remind me of what happened last night and how much I drank at the mini bar. I felt embarrassed and exhausted and demoralized, there honestly is no word to describe the pain that I have within me because of all that I have been through as of lately. I was so fucking heartbroken that I apparently drunk married some random lady off the street and her name was Denise Holtz according to her work badge and she was sleeping right next to me...in my couch... _and why am I wearing a wedding band of all things?!_

I gulped in horror and turned to face her sleeping figure, she seemed as drunk as I was, if not more drunk than me and then I realized, I officially was now a husband. Crap.

She soon woke up, she seemed as confused as I was and asked 

"Where...am I? And who in the world are you?"

I sighed and sat down and added "You are in my house Denise, my name is Ed Tucker and I work for the Narcotics division. What about you?"

She smiled "I'm a part of homicide division. I've heard of you doing some big busts down in downtown Manhattan and Uptown Queens."

I nodded, remembering the multitude of busts that I did over the years with the NYPD. I had been so busy that I had forgotten to stop and realize that I made over fifty busts, that was a hefty amount of busts for anybody in the Manhattan Narcotics Division.

I then made her some food and added "We could get an annulment if you want."

She shrugged "I really don't feel like doing that, and plus my family has been on my back for not being married for a while so I guess I could tell them that I'm married to you."

I was a bit afraid, being in a relationship with someone you barely know never ends well and yet she seemed a bit desperate, so I agreed that we should stay married. A month later, I helped her move into my house and she changed her last name to 'Tucker' and it was a happy and peaceful marriage. My brother Jason was shocked that I had gotten married so soon and I didn't blame him, I would have reacted in the same manner if anybody else had done the same as well. But once again, life doesn't give a damn about a person's happiness and Jason was killed in the line of duty during a traffic stop when a convicted rapist and domestic abuser opened fire on him in Seattle and he died on the table. I felt like someone had ripped my heart cleanly out of my chest cavity. Losing my twin brother was somehow even worse than losing my fiancée Naomi, and I felt so much more alone than ever as I attended my brother's funeral with my wife and my parents, both sitting on opposite sides of the church.

I knew that they hated each other but their hatred was irritating for me, they couldn't even pretend to be a fucking family for one fucking day and it made me so goddamn mad. I wanted to scream, but there was nothing I could do, the fact that they both showed up to Seattle without killing each other was a minor miracle in of itself. I watched as the coffin was lowered and I couldn't stop crying as I drank and drank. I knew I was slipping into the trap of being an alcoholic but I couldn't care, I knew that this alcohol would ruin me and my marriage if I didn't stop. I cried uncontrollably at home as she tried to open up my heart by pleading 

"Please Ed, tell me...let me in..."

"My brother is dead and I'm hurting so much inside, why do I deserve to go through this? Why do I keep losing people that I care for so deeply?"

She hugged me crying and we just wept, hopeless and drifting in a sea of depression, bleeding on the inside with grief and hysteria. 


	15. de die in diem

I found myself in the darkest period of my life during this time, I found myself obsessed with my brother's murder case and I was determined to find that bastard son of a bitch and make him pay for what he had done, to kill my brother and to leave him to drown and choke on his own blood. To kill my brother was unforgivable and I started slipping into a deep darkness to find Jason's killer and yet, there was a part of me that reasoned with me that said 

" _If you give yourself into the darkness in the name of your flesh and blood, it will pay itself and vengeance will soon give you that strength and satisfaction, you will be able to make the killer pay. All you have to do is have the guts to pursue the case_."

I am ashamed to admit that the darkness and the depression and the obsession with finding my brother's killer forced me to take more cases on in Narcotics and I was forced to look deeper into the drug dealers and the players in Seattle that he was investigating when he was shot in cold blood. Nothing made sense, details were missing, witnesses refused to speak and it was a shit show overall, but I was determined to find that bastard and make him pay for what he had done. But while I was buried deep within the case and finding the killer, my wife cheated on me, she cheated on me and slept with some guy from Broadway, what was worse was that I caught them in a compromising position as I was coming back early to find my lunch box when I heard loud moans and when I opened the door, I saw my wife lying with some actor. That Broadway actor was lucky he didn't get shot by me, I just demanded him to leave my house and now. Soon my wife slapped me too and grabbed her clothes as I felt my heart burn in rage at what I had seen. I had been so busy with my grief and sadness that I didn't see that my wife took advantage of our marriage to get an easy lay with other men while I was away. I was completely hurt and outraged. I didn't know how to think at all, all I knew was that she needed to go and never come back. 

I fell to my knees, tears streaming down my face, feeling another empty void consume me deep within, I signed the divorce papers and I felt anger, anger at myself for falling for her lies and for using my money to fuel her escapades with different men. I was hurting and I felt grotesque inside, I felt torn up like as if a Tsunami and a hurricane both collided in my body, there was no peace to be found in me. I was so mad, I was convinced that everyone was a liar and that everyone was out to get me, after all, the world got to my brother and I was obviously next. I found out that Jason's undercover identity had been leaked by a dirty cop in the SPD and I was so SO pissed when I found out, but there was also this sense of helplessness when I realized that there was nothing that I could do to arrest the asshole, he wasn't even in my jurisdiction, as far as I was concerned, I already was sticking out my neck my investigating Jason's murder in the first place. 

I decided to take the Sargent's exam and then I passed with flying colors and I requested a transfer to Internal Affairs, that's when my life collided that with of another unit, the Special Victims Unit. At this time it was early 1991 when I first met Donald Cragen again, he was now a Lieutenant and looked like he was as overworked as everyone else in the precinct was. I found myself buried in paperwork and investigating dirty cops and shaking out every angle. One thing I did learn the hard way was that interrogating a dirty cop was much more difficult than weaving through New York traffic, blind drunk, midnight and in whiteout conditions and they were more difficult in forcing to confess because well, hello? They knew every fucking interrogation trick in the goddamn book, its like trying to give advice to a surgeon when you're a fucking amateur at chest compressions. I learned quickly how to shut out my emotions and how to shut out my feelings, because here in the Internal Affairs, nobody gives two shits about why the fuck are you crying your eyes out again. I quickly became numb to the presumption of innocence and assumed everybody was guilty and that everybody was a liar. I was determined and I could not fail now, not especially after how I had failed my brother so much. 

I do not wish this sort of empty feeling on anybody, it is a feeling like the gravity is pulling you under and there is a darkness waiting to consume you like a tiger, with its big strong jaws and razor sharp teeth, dreaded by all, ready to chew through your defenses. This emptiness I struggled through only began to worsen my alcoholism even more and I drank, I drank to forget my brother's lifeless body lying on the wet concrete, I drank to forget Naomi's lifeless body on the concrete as I ran to arrest the shooter, I drank to forget the bitch ex wife that betrayed me, and I drank to forget about my asshole parents. Man did I ever hate my mother more than anything. I hated my mother more than anything in the whole wide world and it hurt me inside my heart. It hurt to be hurt constantly and it made me wonder why I was deserving of such pain and misery, I just wanted it all to end soon. 


	16. ad valoreum

Being in Internal Affairs is like a hell scape and a purgatory rolled into one, and office work is the least of your fucking problems, I couldn't trust myself or my instincts, I didn't want to run the risk of being betrayed again and yet, when I was assigned to Det. Gary Wald, I never imagined that one day, he would use our friendship against me and destroy the life of someone in such an unforgivable manner. It's funny how people can step into our lives and easily leave it in another breath. And the fear of being alone, yes that was a fear that still haunted me like a specter in the deep dark night, I investigated against dirty cops and I found so much corruption, it shocked and disgusted me, it made me so fucking sick that cops could take bribes to look the other way for whatever reason, but to me, there was never a good reason to ever take bribes or ignore the fact that we were supposed to be the guardians of the law, the enforcers of the law and yet so many of these men and women were betraying their oath to themselves and to the city. I never could have imagined how widespread it was and how tolerated it was even amongst the higher ranks. 

Another thorny issue was that of police brutality, there was clearly no doubt about it that it was a widespread epidemic and it needed to be addressed immediately and urgently, and at this point, two names constantly popped up on my list all the time: Olivia Margaret Benson and Elliot Stabler. These two names were problematic and one of them were people I had slept with...This made my job harder and harder than ever, to constantly investigate them and for them to push back against me was frustrating as hell, it was easier to investigate aliens in space than these two bastards. The first time I met them, I was not amused and was frustrated to hell and back trying to investigate a cocaine smuggling ring and it was bringing me back to my days in Narcotics, my experience here told me that smugglers tend to refuse to speak unless you threaten them with prison time and offer them a deal in exchange for information and it led me to realize that Derek Pffefer was not the guy, and what I did to the SVU was absolutely unforgivable but in order to lure in the smugglers, I needed the guy to be released so that they would think that we had lost track of them, because if the smugglers realized that we were onto them, they would start erasing evidence and that would destroy the case before I could even get near the guy. But soon Derek ended up murdered anyway and Captain Cragen grabbed the case from me and threatened to strangle me, I very rarely felt fear, but in his presence, my veins turned to ice as he glared at me and grabbed me by my collar, my heart pounded with absolute terror as I was trying to not have a fucking panic attack. My hands were about to go numb as I told him that he needed anger management and he shot back "And you need to kiss my ass."

I inwardly rolled my eyes as I took a deep breath and the numbness in my hands went away, we soon found the head of the drug smuggling ring finally after some arguments and heated words thrown each other's ways and I ordered Stabler onto Modified Assigned Duty AKA the Rubber Gun Squad, every cop hated MAD, but it was procedure after a shooting to put them on Modified Assigned duty, unofficially so that they could decompress after what they had seen, I was sincerely worried for him and put him on MAD because I knew that shooting and killing someone in real life was nothing compared to shooting and killing someone in a game. It is a event that can easily destroy you inside and out and can eat you on the inside for years. I had been there several times and it nearly made me wonder if I wasn't meant to be a cop, that maybe I wasn't cut out for being in Narcotics. At some point I wondered if life was a fool's errand, that all of this in the grand scheme was all but useless and the fact was that we could battle all we wanted to, but we couldn't stem the avalanche of cases and the stream of victims that came in constantly with stories and people who have had their lives destroyed by drugs, either directly or indirectly. It felt so frustrating, even here in Internal Affairs, there was a constant stream of complaints and I was swamped and overwhelmed by the stories and the fact was, I was drowning, I was drowning and yet I was able to breathe, I was dead inside and yet my heart was still beating, I felt like the living dead inside. Ever since I was raped when I was thirteen, I was dead inside, I felt like a walking carcass, I felt dirty and disgusted with myself and I hated myself inside. I hated everything about myself and yet there was no time for me to pity myself, but I couldn't call myself a survivor of rape. I was not a survivor because what happened to me killed me inside and murdered my innocence. I wanted the emotions to stop feeling so overwhelming so I went to Forlini's and drank, I drank to forget my rapes, I drank to forget my pain and my sorrow and the betrayals that I endured, I drank to forget that my parents were self-centered assholes and that my rapists were bitches and scumbags, I drank to purify myself and absolve myself of my past and yet the more I drank, the more I seemed to contaminate myself even more. It was a vicious cycle I seemed destined to never escape. 


	17. a posteriori

At this point in my life, my schedule became a blur, all I cared for was work and work, I barely ate or slept and I didn't take time off at all, I was constantly buried in a avalanche of paperwork and reviews of shootings and traffic stops and so on, I was basically going through the motions of life and the motions of investigating dirty cops, it felt like I was just a robot and I was just waiting, waiting for my body to collapse in a heap of bones and die. I hated being numb so much. The reason I was transferred from Manhattan to Bronx IAB was due to a horrible and tragic reason, someone had found out that I was bisexual and started insulting me and calling me slurs, it was horrible and I felt embarrassed, but one of the cops started bullying me and his name was Landon Smith and he assaulted me and punched me in the face, he threw me onto the ground and spat on me before he got up, I was mad, I was not going to take those insults lying down and I got up and I punched him in the face several times.

I watched as his nose crumpled under the weight of my fist and I started gasping for air, feeling humiliated and disgusted with myself as I realized the weight of what I had done, I had beaten the crap out of a fellow cop and this was sure to earn a lot of hatred for what I did. And I was certainly right, I earned the nickname "Tucker the Fucker" real well, and I could tell that everybody hated me, even Gary hated me so much that he shunned me. Soon my captain pulled me aside and told me 

"You know, I'll be able to drop the charges for you, I have some serious pull. You don't want your career destroyed because you couldn't handle a little workplace banter could you? here's the deal, you meet me at the hotel room tomorrow night and do me a favor and I'll do you a favor as well."

I was afraid, I was scared and to be honest, I felt like at that moment I couldn't say no, the fact that he was offering this to me, seemed like a golden opportunity to wipe my slate clean, even if it wasn't my reputation that would be cleaned up, at least my disciplinary record would remain clean and that was all that mattered to me as I hesitated and he added 

"What are you waiting for, I'm offering you the offer of a lifetime, I know that you're Catholic, could you imagine your priest finding out that you're a homosexual? Could you imagine the rest of the world finding out? You wouldn't want to dishonor the family name would you? Oh and by the way, homosexuals still are heavily discriminated against in the workforce, I would take my offer if I were you Ed."

I sat down on the bench, stunned at those threatening words, my heart was beating in absolute terror as he left me alone in the locker room, I wanted to start crying right then and there, I felt like I was trapped between a rock and a hard place, I could either refuse his offer and risk losing my job and have a black mark on my resume forever, or...I could do whatever it is I was told to do in that hotel room, the prospects were bleak and absolutely terrifying and I hated it so much, I felt like a fly caught in the web of a spider and I depended on the mercy of the spider to set me free.

The next day at night, I drove over to the hotel that he told me to meet him at, I was anxious and sweaty all over, I wanted to turn away, run away before it was all too late, but I couldn't, I shouldn't...but I should have, if I knew what would happen to me that night. I entered the room and waited for a few minutes before the captain showed up, drunk as hell and smiled at me, his breath reeked of alcohol and I was terrified, so I said

"Don't worry, you should rest. I'll find a way to explain to my family, please, you're drunk captain."

But he gripped my throat and threw me onto the bed and pulled down his pants and pulled down mine and flipped me over and thrust into me, they were rough and jagged thrusts that hurt with each movements, he grunted and moaned and huffed and puffed, all I could do was try to not cry, but tears kept leaking out of my eyes anyway, a sob started building up in my chest as I clenched my teeth from the pain of the rape, but it was no use, it hurt so horribly all over, I could feel him ejaculate in me and it made me feel sick and dirty all over, my chest was heaving and I could feel stomach acid bubble up my throat and I threw up on the pillow, I threw up all the stomach contents I had and more until my stomach was good and empty, there was a bruise starting to form on my abdomen, that didn't look good at all.

The next morning when I woke up, the captain was gone, I wanted to call Captain Waterstone from Narcotics and ask him if this was abuse of power, but I was too ashamed to pick up the phone, explain the situation to him in full detail and the reason behind it and tell him that I had been propositioned. He would probably say that it wasn't abuse of power as long as I consented and I knew I just needed a fucking shower, oh wait...a shower might not even be enough to scrub out the assault that I suffered from, I wanted to take a shower in hot bleach and scrub the insides of my skin with a pot scourer.


	18. ex proprio motu

As I showered and scrubbed myself in the hotel room shower I was raped in just hours later, I could only remember bits and pieces of what had happened during last night's fiasco, most of what he had said to me felt scrambled, mixed up as if my brain was trying to protect me, I don't have many clear memories of what had happened, it was as if my mind was trying, trying to protect me, protect my sanity and protect my soul...they don't know what is eating at me, they don't know how much I've been used and broken and raped. They don't ask why I'm so broken...that's fine...they'll never know. They'll never know of the rapist priest who was a pedophile to me and to so many other kids, they'll never know of the rapist drug dealer who mercilessly forced me onto my knees and perform degrading sexual acts before raping me, they'll never know of the rapist captain, they'll never know of the pain of me losing my fiancée, they'll never especially guess how much I have been suffering since my ex wife abandoned me after my brother's murder.

My life is absolutely fucked up and it is in pieces, I'll take my pain with me to my grave, they will never guess what in the world destroyed me in the very end. It will take them a million guesses, but they will never ever come close to the fact that I am a sex crime victim. I am a victim of a system that does not value or listen to victims, not especially male sex crime victims, and it is because of this system that puts the innocence of the perpetrator over the word of the victim, I will remain silent, and there are millions out there, both men and women who will remain silent like me because of how toxic and overloaded the system is with enablers. I have personally seen rapists get away with what they have done and it destroyed me and erased any hope I once ever had as a beat cop of making any positive change in the world ever in my lifetime, it is all hopeless and useless, there are liars and players like my ex wife waiting to destroy lives and it is all they have ever known, to break and to destroy and it is because of them, I am a pile of rubble and ashes inside. 

What I never imagined I would do was that I would fail Rachel Wilson in the same way as I was failed as well, when she came to me with a complaint that she had been raped by my friend Gary Wald, I did investigate, but I failed her horribly by listening to my friend who said she was a liar, I did not realize it then, but I would pay a terrible price for that mistake, it was a mistake that would haunt her and destroy her life and one that would destroy me, like the scum bag I was. Some "Guardian of Justice" I was...

I soon moved to the Bronx IAB precinct and I drank and did my work, I drowned myself in paperwork, praying that nobody would figure out that I was bisexual and that I liked men and women, not just women overall, and most of all, I was terrified of being forced to come forward as a rape victim, it was not something I would ever be ready to do, not in this lifetime, nor in the next one either. Shame and terror enabled my silence and I was especially afraid that I would lose my career because my rapist was a captain and I was just a sergeant. 

I can remember the heat and the violence in my legs and back as he pushed in and out, I tried my hardest to keep my emotions together and the roughness of his voice as he forced me to stay down, as he grunted and huffed from exertion, I remember my mind flashing a word that I was all too familiar with, a word that described the situation without a doubt. Rape. I remember as my vision blurred and melted in tears as my head was mashed into the plain white pillowcase, I remember the smell of alcohol and the smell of aftershave, that smell still brings back flashbacks, flashbacks I still can't get myself to suppress no matter how hard I tried. No matter how much I tried, that smell would send me running to the bathroom gasping for air, my chest would heave up and down and I would be silently wondering if this was the end, that I would finally die of a heart attack, it was excruciating to deal with the fear and the memories, that was why I ran off to the Bronx.

I still had nightmares and waking up screaming at the middle of the night was becoming routine, it was getting so old that I was used to nightmares haunting my broken mind, and Benson and Stabler's antics with violating department policy on a daily basis as much as one gets coffee for breakfast was constantly annoying, especially that one time when he was accused of raping a guy in his custody, that situation was a messy one and it nearly forced me to put him in MAD again, as if that guy wasn't already familiar with the routine of one who is in MAD. Thank god for cigarettes and alcohol or else I would have gone crazy because of Stabler, I swear to god, he was the worst cop I have ever been around and it annoyed me because we had both slept several times together but ever since I went into IAB, I hadn't slept with him since. All I can say is, my attraction towards men was something I couldn't resist, but I had to do my best to conceal it or else risk being labeled as something worse than a 'Station Queen'.


	19. ex popriis sensibus

Being in the Bronx was like being on pins and needles, most of the male officers here were extraordinarily handsome and yet, they were grade A heterosexual, it was somehow even worse than being trapped in a dark closet and I still had a crippling fear of the dark, it still haunted me, to see the dark in all its terrifying glory. In a sense I was still trapped in a sort of darkness, a darkness that encompassed my very mind and my heart, this darkness was threatening to destroy my sanity. Going undercover helped only to serve to stoke the flames of darkness while in IAB, I went undercover to forget what happened to me and what I had endured and yet the further I tried to run away from my old identity, the more I was haunted by the very prospect of my cover being blown and the truth being discovered. I liked the excitement and the danger of being undercover, the thrill of being undercover, the thrill of having a different identity is something nobody will understand. Ever.

What I did not realize was that by running and hiding, the light would soon find me, expose me and shame me, it would force me to face the reality of what I was doing, by hiding the truth of who I was, but what happened also showed me the harsh reality of revealing who I was as well. I soon stumbled across the case of a gay football star killing his boyfriend, the case soon became rapidly complex and when Detective 2nd Grade Olivia Benson's DNA was found on the knife, I had no choice but to arrest her, the means and the motive were there and plus, there was evidence that she had leaked the story to her boyfriend by the name of Kurt Moss. Interrogating the boyfriend of the murdered man forced me to realize that even now, in the late 90s, we still were nowhere near the acceptance that we deserved, coming out was risky and dangerous, especially for minority communities with traditional beliefs and teachings. 

I will never forget the look on the face of the manager as he was arrested for leaking the story and murdering the boyfriend, it was a face that had no emotion, no love, no anger, nothing, all I saw in his face was pure death, it is a face that to this day haunts my dreams and stalks my subconscious, everyday, his words echo in my mind and his words show me, not just tell me what the rest of the world thinks of the LGBT community, I still am haunted by the fact that there are gay cops who have died in the line of duty because of backup not getting there on time on purpose, I know of LGBT people whose murders and disappearances are still unsolvable and the faces and the stories that are erased and silenced due to the indifference by the public, indifference by my fellow cops and indifference by those in the higher ups. All I know is that if I ever get forcibly outed against my own will, I will be murdered and that is a terrifying thought, knowing that Elliot knows my secret, that I like men and women. But no matter how many women I try to go out with, I feel empty and lonesome and useless, and I felt like I was missing a part of myself, I felt lonesome and it was a scary feeling, I was starting to realize that my drinking was a concerning issue so I went into Alcoholics Anonymous and I started getting help with my drinking and soon I was assigned to a counselor, but my kidney still hurt like fuck and throwing up my meals and having a decreasing appetite was an issue I couldn't afford to ignore for long. 

One morning when I woke up and went to the bathroom, I started peeing blood and I knew that was _not good at all._ I was not a medic or a doctor or a nurse and the pain in my abdomen was tremendous, on top of the fact that memories of my previous rape were still very much fresh and still seething in my brain, I tried to hide my bruises around my neck with concealer and the bruises around my wrists with the collared and starched white shirts and tie a red tie on top, the physical pain that was manifesting in my side was so intolerable that even Captain Logan Mayweather of the Bronx IAB, also known as my boss noticed how I kept my sleeves rolled down at all costs and the fact that transitioning from sitting in my chair to standing was becoming a monumental task of itself and he ordered me "Sargent Ed, go to the hospital, you look like shit to be quite frank with you." 

When I looked at my face in the mirror, _looking like shit_ was a complete understatement, my hair was starting to grey at the top of my head and my eyes looked like the thousand yard stare pictures from WWII, on top of the fact that my cheeks looked hollow and my eyes had dark grey and pink rings around them from lack of sleep, I didn't have the strength or the energy to argue and I finally went to the E.R to sit down in the waiting room when I was handed a stack of forms the size of the stack of the paperwork I was handed at work to complete and finish. As soon as I handed the papers over, I felt a sharp pain in my abdomen, that felt like as if a knife was being pushed into me, I screamed as I fell onto my hands and knees and blacked out as the pain became too much for me. 

I opened my eyes, feeling exhaustion sweep all over me as a nurse asked me questions about my injuries and it was becoming harder to lie and lie to them, but if I slipped up and told them I was raped, there was no doubt an investigation would be opened into my transfer. 


	20. in pari delicto

I managed to somehow convince the nurse that I had a biking accident while I was on my way home from the grocery store and I landed on a pole and decided to ignore the pain while biking, she looked like she didn't believe me as they did an ultrasound of my bruised kidney to make sure it was still even functioning in the first place. I winced as the doctors came in and they asked me what was my pain level, at this point the pain was so bad and so horrible that I screamed 

"AGH! TEN! TEN! TEN! AAAAGGHHH FUCK HOLY FUCK!"

I could feel a needle plunge into my skin, holy fuck how I still hated needles to this day because of what happened while I was UC in Narcotics. I let the medicine take its course through my veins and arteries and I let myself slip under. I dreamt of myself standing in a empty waiting room, the walls were lined with red silk curtains and the floor looked zebra striped with black and white tiles striping the floor over and over in a pattern, I saw glittery dust float before me, pulling me, leading me forward down the hallway as I saw the dark shadow grow longer, pulling me towards the infernal darkness, the rectangular dark window, expanded and expanded until it swallowed me whole and then I saw that I was in a different room, I saw people who had left me, were now standing before me, my Fiancée, my brother and my dead father. I had a big lump in my throat as I reached out to grasp them and just like that, they quickly vanished like as if they were never there in the first place. I let out a huge sob and fell onto my hands and knees as I kept sobbing all alone in the punishing darkness. 

I started opening my eyes and blinked slowly as I felt a plastic oxygen mask over my mouth and I could feel needles, literally pressing into my skin, it felt claustrophobic and I wanted to rip them off right now, I saw a doctor walk right in and I asked 

"So what is going on doctor?, please...you have to let me out. I have work to do and cases to solve. Those crooks won't just turn themselves in you know."

The doctor sighed and then told me "You need to calm down Sargent Tucker, what you have been through has been extremely traumatic on your kidneys, and we estimate that you need to be here at least five to six nights, and that is a conservative estimate, however, depending on how long it takes you to heal, it may be necessary for you to do a longer stay here."

I gulped in terror at the sight of medical bills, I still hadn't paid for the medical bills from my first or second stay, the bills were already expensive as hell and insurance was balking about paying for the bills even though I had the salary of a Sargent.

The doctor seemed exasperated and took a deep sigh before pinching his nose and began 

"Sargent Tucker, you do not know of the extent and the seriousness of your injuries, we needed to do emergency surgery on you to repair the tears and stop the bleeding caused by anal trauma that you have suffered. Have you not noticed the periodic bleeding lately?"

I felt ashamed, naked and exposed, as if they were close to exposing my shameful secret and it was absolutely terrifying, to feel cornered like a wounded animal, helpless and unable to fight back, vulnerable and in need of help. I gulped and tried to sound as normal as possible by saying

"I thought it would go away on its own."

"You lost several pints of blood and your blood pressure dropped to a dangerous level. I also have put you on heavy doses of antibiotics to avoid peritonitis and to treat the infected kidney as well as the laceration on your shoulder. There is a possibility that one or both of your kidneys could fail, one from trauma and one from previous damage. We need to monitor to prevent that. We also have taken blood samples for blood tests to test for HIV and STD's, but we still haven't received the results yet. Also, in addition to that, your fever is making it difficult to reduce the dehydration and in addition to your exhaustion, your immune system is overtaxed and exhausted."

I felt horrible all around and sighed as I added "I guess I am in a pretty shitty shape for you to be telling me all of this."

The doctor replied "Shitty isn't a medically appropriate term I would use to describe you, but yes, you are in a very shitty shape. I mean, when was the last time you ate a full and healthy meal Sargent? When was the last time you had more than two hours of sleep?"

I didn't know how to answer that question, I felt like he was not going to like the answer either way as I told him 

"Maybe some granola bars and that was it. I can't remember the last time I've slept because I was so busy trying to bust a ring of sex traffickers headed by a dirty cop. I admit I haven't had time to myself at all."

He then added "Because you have become so dehydrated and severely malnourished, we are putting you on a high caloric liquid diet. It however doesn't come in granola flavor yet."

I winced at the thought of food being forced down my throat, I felt tired and nauseated and I decided to fall asleep, my body dragging me under the dark waves of unconsciousness as I struggled and struggled and soon my eyes fell shut and I could hear someone close the light and shut the door to allow me to sleep. They didn't realize that I was returning to the dream world that I was trapped in, and could see things I wish I never saw. 


	21. ex tunc

I dreamt that I was in the waiting room, and I saw my twin brother, he looked exactly like the day he had died, he had not aged one day since that day and it stunned me a little, my breath was caught in my throat as he stood before me, as I gazed at the marble statues all around me, all of them depicting various gods and goddesses from Greek mythology. I then gazed into his sharp and intense eyes, they seemed to be staring right into my soul, it was as if he was gazing into my brokenness and my sadness and my emptiness that was still a gazing hole right through my heart, it was something that I could never be able to overcome, not on my own, not ever. He sighed softly as he hugged me tightly and I cried, I cried my heart and my soul out, I couldn't stop crying even if I wanted to, all I wanted was to spend an eternity in my brother's arms forever, but I knew deep within that if I wanted to ever wake up, I needed to leave soon. He told me

"Ed, you need to wake up, and leave this place, this place is a lonely place."

"So why are you here with me then?"

"Because your soul has brought my soul here. You are a lonely soul and you need your friends. Go back to them, go back before it's too late and we both are stuck here forever. Get out of here and fast. Just leave this place. I'm begging you."

I just whispered hoarsely "I have nobody to speak to, I have no friends, the captain of the Manhattan IAB is a sexual predator and is ruining lives. I don't know if I'll make it through all of this."

He gazed softly at me and said 

"You _will_ make it through this. I promise you, you will survive and you will find someone who will love you for who you are. I promise you, you aren't alone, you just _feel_ alone right now, that feeling is temporary."

I cried even harder and said "Jason I wish you didn't die so soon, you were my brother, my twin brother and now...all I can do is wonder what we could have done together as brothers if our parents didn't separate us, it's thoughts like these that continue to drag me back into a past that I've been trying to escape my whole entire life."

I realized that I said more than I had intended to say to Jason and his expression softened and he hugged me again as I cried like a fucking firehose, I cried and cried as he held me, I never wanted to let go of him, I was afraid of going back to a world without my brother, I was afraid of being alone forever again.

Jason then told me "You aren't alone, you were never alone, not this whole time, not ever. I have been watching over you, your dedication to solving my murder is admirable and courageous, you risked your life and your career and everything you had to find justice for me and I thank you for that. You fought hard and still do for so many people and it is so amazing to see that you have become wiser and stronger, you may not feel like you have, but you definitely have. Naomi also misses being with you, we all miss you, we all will, but until next time, please...just stay alive and don't get hurt, it gets hard not being able to do anything to be able to protect you."

I nodded and soon my eyes opened, I saw a gray tiled ceiling like the ones you would see in the office and I could hear beeping in the distance, I could feel the scratchy sheets under me and I could feel the needles that were pressed into my skin. I _still_ hated needles and I would forever hate them to kingdom come. I swallowed and tried to move my arms when I realized that they were strapped down with soft restraints and then I realized that the plastic object in me was a tube, that meant I had been in a ventilator and I could see a dialysis machine whirring nearby... _shit_ now that wasn't good at all. My kidneys were already suffering and it was all my fault, I knew that much for sure as the doctor came over and I gulped 

"Doc how soon can you get me out of these restraints? What the hell is going on? Why are you doing this to me?"

I tugged at the straps, trying to tear them off, but it was of no use, I felt too weak and too frail to struggle against them as the doctor dryly added 

"If you hadn't started seizing due to a high temperature and tried ripping out your IV lines afterwards, we wouldn't have needed to strap you down in the first place. Besides, nurses get frustrated when they have to keep restarting lines and keep you from bleeding you from the blood sprays."

I lay down and sighed "Can you at least undo the straps, I tend to not like being strapped down, I hate being strapped down."

I then looked away and felt embarrassed, I felt ashamed as tears fell down my face, how low had I become and how low had I fallen to get this far. I hated myself inside and out and it hurt so much, this self hatred was destroying me all over and I knew this self destruction would end me and end my life. I relaxed as the restraints were removed and the doctor soon left and I asked how long was I out and she said 

"You were out for a week Ed. We needed to do ice baths on you because your temperature was sticking to 104.2 for several hours and we were concerned about brain damage to you." 

I lay back in absolute shock that I was out for this long and the fact that I could have died while I was under was a terrifying thought. 


	22. dramatis personae

Control is something that everyone seeks and yet not all of us will get. We want control over our lives, control over what has happened, what will happen, what we will say and what we have said. Control is a powerful drug, it gives us power, control is power and rape is all about control, thus it is all about power. It seizes the victims of their autonomy and shreds their self esteem to pieces. I remember after the captain raping me, all I felt was a sense of dirtiness and filthiness, I wanted to get clean again, this apparently ties back to the theme of control. I wanted to take back control of my body, I wanted to take back my body and take back the cleanliness that was stolen from me, but most of all I wanted to get clean again. I knew deep within me, shame and guilt warred inside of me, making for a toxic mess that was causing me to self destruct and implode into a million, billion pieces. I was especially afraid of people seeing too far into the abyss that was inside of me and only see nothing but darkness, pure darkness that threatened to swallow whole anybody that dared to come too close.

I was force fed by NG tube and I could feel dozens of wires and tubes in me and I could feel that I was cold, my body shivered as I looked around, it reminded me of a horrifying blizzard back in 1987, that day was a freezing day and I could remember that even my bed was not warm enough and the radiator was leaking steam and struggling to heat my bedroom. The doctor knocked on the door and then I snarked 

"How long do I have to freeze in this ice box of a room? I'm freezing to death here!"

The doctor raised an eyebrow and replied coolly "On the contrary, your fever is decreasing back to its normal levels, we will see if we can get you a regular blanket, your fever had spiked to dangerous levels and we were worried that you would die. We also have the results for your STD screen back, you have tested negative for all STD's, STI's and HIV. You will however need to take another HIV test six months after today, and another test six months after the second test."

I sighed and grumbled a little in my mind, but to test negative felt like a million pounds lifted off of my shoulders, it felt like a huge relief, to know that I wasn't infected with something as terrifying and as deadly as HIV. Even now, there was still a stigma attached to HIV and I was aware of many people suffering from HIV and then eventually it turned to AIDS and then they died. Several NYPD cops died of AIDS and it made things all the more real. 

_Jesus Christ, when will this madness ever end?_

_I still want to burn those damn clothes I was raped in._

_I still feel dirty...why?_

I then watched as the doctor checked over my charts and watched him check over my injuries that were bandaged and wrapped up, I felt like a failed science experiment, like a Frankenstein, like a fucking mummy wrapped up in so many bandages and gauze, it felt humiliating for another person to gaze at my body like I was a training cadaver for him to practice his knowledge on me. He then asked

"Do you have any living relatives or family?"

"No I don't Doc, my brother was killed in the line of duty and my parents died as well, and so is my fiancée."

He pushed up his glasses and sighed as he sat back and added 

"Do you have any friends, coworkers at least?"

"I just transferred in from Manhattan."

I lay back feeling tired as he walked out, alone with my thoughts, without work to distract me or to lead me away from my dark thoughts. I was a selfish and needy person and I didn't deserve love, not especially after how many mistakes and how much of a horrible person I was. I then decided to lift the sheets and look at the damage myself, I saw bruises that were starting to look blue, green and yellow, the damage looked tremendous and awful. I had never seen such horrible damage before in my entire life, not even when I was shot up while undercover in Narcotics. I lowered the sheets down and felt ashamed, I felt humiliated and emasculated and disgusted with myself. All I could remember what a cop once said was "Men don't get raped".

I wished I could get up and wash the filthy images that popped up in my mind, my imagination left me lonely and abandoned and even during my fantasies, I was submissive and being held down my strong arms that refused to let me go, that refused to let me breathe. I felt like an iron band was contracting around my chest as I started uncontrollably sobbing, alone and miserly in my bed, my sobs were uncontrollable, they were loud and they were ugly and messy, I cried harder now than I ever did at Naomi's funeral, Jason's funeral or at my mom and dad's funerals, I cried because my life was in fucking ruins and I was drowning, I had no real friends. It was ironic, my name meant "Rich in friendship" and yet I had no real friends, I was all alone in the hospital room and suffering and recovering all by myself, it was excruciating and painful, it was traumatic and I hated this feeling that haunted me.

The only small comfort that seemed to occur to me was that nobody was here to witness my spectacular emotional breakdown occur and I thanked my lucky stars that nobody did watch me cry because I didn't want people to judge me more than they already have judged me before all of this happened. 


	23. Casus Belli

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some of Ed's struggles are my own. Some of his experiences are my own.

Getting better on my own without a support system was an uphill battle I was not ready for, and yet I had to get ready to face it because, I was starting to get stir crazy from being in the hospital all day and my hospital bills were starting to look like the national debt, and don't even get me started on the panic attacks and flashbacks I often suffered from while I was stuck in the room, all alone without work to take my mind off of the traumas I had endured all my entire life as a result of indifference, neglect and internalized homophobia. At this point, eating was a monumental task and it was still frustrating, soon the nurse came in with a cheerful smile on her face.

_What did she have to smile about? There was nothing in my life to be happy about at all. All I wanted was to be left alone so I could wallow in my misery and then die alone so that nobody would see how much of a mess I had become._

The nurse broke through my thoughts and then told me 

"Today I'll be helping you remove your NG tube so we can get started on feeding you liquids and jello and then we can start transitioning you to solids as soon as you are ready to take them on, okay? So you are going to feel a bit of nausea and a bit of bleeding from the nose as we remove the tube, that is normal, you ready?" 

I sighed 

"As I'll ever be."

Then she propped me up, using the bed remote to make me sit up and the slight dizziness momentarily made my vision spin around and around and then just as it started, it was gone just like that. Then the nurse slid on her blue plastic gloves and wore a mask and face shield with eye goggles and put a dish on the table for me to puke in and then started gently started removing the NG tube from my nose when I started heaving and blood gushed from my nose, my nose kept bleeding as she removed the tube completely and the dish was full of my vomit and she grabbed another one and pressed the Nurse Call button for more help. By the time I was done puking my guts all over the place and humiliating myself once more again in front of the Nurse, she was covered in my vomit and I felt horrible for her, I wish I hadn't vomited so much in front of her...or in front of anybody for that matter, I felt grossed out by what I had done so I laid back and closed my eyes as tears watered up my eyes, I wanted to start crying, crying all over again as she gently held my shoulder and reminded me 

"It's okay to cry Ed, I have seen patients in worse condition than you, you are a good patient. You just need to rest and let your body heal so you can get out of here sooner. Relax okay? Everything will be just okay."

I soaked in her words and let them wash all over me as I listened to her speak, her words were soothing, gentle and kind and soon before I knew it, I was asleep, tired and wiped out from the nose bleed and vomiting incident. I slept a dreamless, exhausted sleep, that sort of sleep that makes you wonder if you have been sedated or if you ever want to get up again that is. It was the sort of dreamless sleep that made me wonder if I would wake up refreshed and full of energy again that is.

I woke up a few hours later to a tray in front of me, it had two cups of Jello, a Ensure shake and a glass of water, I felt absolutely mortified at the thought of finishing all of that by myself, but I realized that if I really wanted to get the hell out of here and start arresting criminals again, I would have to start taking some personal responsibility for my personal health and start eating the fucking Jello and whatever else they had given me to eat. Someone knocked on my door and it was someone I never thought I would ever see in my life, his name was Mike Cutter and damn he looked very sexy and handsome as he walked in with his three piece Armani suit and blue and pink striped tie and I blushed a little when I saw him sit down, he spoke 

"Hey Ed, I heard you became very sick, I really became worried for you, all of us in Manhattan are worried for your recovery, we all want you to get better soon and get back to doing what you love, you are strong, you are courageous and you have so many people that care for you."

My brain snorted derisively and I mentally added to myself in my head _"How many of those people truly care for me? How many of those people have visited me? How many of them have called me or sent me anything to show that they care? Hardly anybody at all that is."_

I blinked slowly as if he was speaking in gibberish instead of English, I didn't honestly think he even knew what he was talking about at all, there was nobody that truly loved me, still alive. Naomi, Jason, and my dad were all dead, mom was dead too, but since she was the one who inadvertently contributed to my rape, I didn't consider her as someone I loved or cared for at all. Mike was absolutely naïve and it absolutely amused me to the point of irony, it was ironic that a person like him, who is an ADA, who is loathed by cops all over, _thinks_ that _I_ am loved, what _utter_ bullshit. I am fucking IAB, IAB might as well be as loved as much as we love congress or some shit, if it wasn't for us, cops would run around unfettered, doing whatever they thought was right. 

I was soon booked for a physical therapist and that meant doing stretches and exercises to keep the muscles I haven't used in two weeks limber and strong and avoid atrophy. I was made to walk from one end of the room to another and I found myself gasping for air barely four or five steps into the exercise and I felt totally embarrassed all over as the physical therapist made me stand up and try again and he made me do the leg and arm stretches. It was a week later that I found myself being able to walk halfway across the room without running out of breath, I was amazed by my progress and pushed myself to walk more and exercise and swim more, I was getting stronger and better, but it all came at a cost, a great cost that cost me too much of my emotions and my heart. 


	24. doli incapax

I might be healing physically, I might be getting stronger physically, but I sure as hell am not getting stronger mentally at all, in fact I may have just become more fragile mentally more than ever. Dealing with the fact that I would have to go back to work, dealing with horrible cases and the thought of dealing with Elliot Stabler and Olivia Benson just made my skin crawl, those two made my life an absolute nightmare and I hated, _**HATED**_ dealing with their bullshit, I hated how they had a reputation of a refusal to cooperate and the fact that Elliot especially had a reputation that involved getting into trouble for assaulting perps. Thinking about work in any way, shape or form just made me want to hide under the sheets deeply until kingdom come, but I knew at some point I would have to go back to work and start facing the real world and the responsibilities that I had been avoiding all this time. The self hate, shame and trauma inside of me made for a toxic mess that labeled me with a large label written in bold letters: _ **Damaged Goods! Don't touch!**_

I felt dirty, contaminated, soiled, like Chernobyl, I couldn't stop feeling like as if my mom was right, that no matter what I could do, I was a failure in her eyes, I could never measure up as someone who was deserving of love in the very end. I resented her very much because of those words, they hurt my heart and damaged my psyche, every ounce of energy I tried to summon was quickly drained from my limbs and I sobbed, I sobbed my eyes out, hating my own mother, she was a neglectful woman and cared for nothing but herself, she was someone who was incapable of changing her mind and incapable of being compatible with the changing values of our society today.

I lay in bed, resting after a day's worth of physical therapy, my body hurting all over, but I was now regaining the strength I had lost and I was getting closer to the point that I could be discharged, but a part of me missed my coworkers, I missed the banter and I missed the conversations that we often had, I missed it all, even though many of the cops hated me, I missed them. I felt like a loser crawling back to the situation that was tormenting me in the first place and yet there was a part of me that was driven by the energy of their hatred, that maybe, just maybe I could prove them wrong and that maybe I could show them that I was right and that they were wrong. But what I didn't realize was that my obsession with proving myself right, I was contributing in a way to my own self destruction, I was helping these people to destroy myself in my obsession for me to prove myself right that nobody could ever be trusted ever. 

I then was discharged as the spring of 2000 started. It felt different, it felt like a renewal, like a rebirth of someone new since I left the hospital, that the old me died in that hospital, and that I was now someone different that left the hospital, it felt like an affirmation that I was capable of recovery and I was capable of strength in so many ways than one. But there was a part of me that would forever be missing and dead in that hospital, it was a part of me that would never be recovered again. 

I held my plastic blue bag labelled boldly with blocky black letters boldly stating "Patient Belongings" and my name was scribbled on the white space below with my name "Sgt. Ed Tucker" written below in blocky letters in Sharpie and I waited for the public bus to pick me up at the bus stop, I watched as the glass and steel and concrete buildings belch out smoke and steam and little did I know, the world for everyone, not just for me, would come crashing down very soon. I watched as the bus pulled slowly to the curb just before me to pick me up from the curb and then I stepped inside and then pushed in a dollar and two quarters and then the bus driver handed me my bus ticket and then I sat down in the seat right next to the rear bus door, I then watched as the bus drove through its route and then I boarded another and then finally arrived home, my body was aching and I was feeling extremely chilly all over, from being in the cold for so long and then I pulled out my keys and then unlocked the door and then entered my house. 

I flicked on the lightswitch and the light turned on, shining a harsh light on the furniture as it lay as I left it before I left that afternoon before I was ordered to go to the hospital, I had a massive bag filled with medications to keep my kidney functions sane and I then pulled out some can of soup and then heated it over the stove, I planned to go grocery shopping once I was strong enough to lift the grocery bags on my own. I stirred the soup as it melted and turned to liquid and watched some football as I sighed deeply, there was still a part of me that ached, still hurt, there were aches upon aches, and aches upon even older aches. I had wounds on top of older wounds, it felt like a mad world, a world that was slowly crumbling into the sea like the ice melting away slowly to the hot sun in spring. I lay down in bed, contemplating my past, my present and my future and I wondered if anybody would miss me if I was gone, I wondered if I even managed to make an impact on anything, I felt absolutely useless in the grand scheme of things, that nothing I did mattered to anybody, anymore. 


	25. facio ut facias

You would think that the world would think " _Well gee, poor guy, he must have been through so much, let's leave this guy alone and stop torturing him so much_ " Right? Wrong. Dead wrong. On September 11th, 2001 I was busy in the office doing paperwork and I still was riding a desk because my injuries had still not healed fully from the rape in 99' and I was still feeling a little emotionally unsteady from the mental torture that I had endured when some crazed ex cop who had been accused of planting drugs and falsifying evidence as well as accepting bribes on the job decided to kidnap me from my own home and hold me hostage in a basement for nearly thirty hours, I was so hungry and thirsty from the fallout that I decided that I never wanted to experience that sort of bullshit again and I never wanted anybody to experience that sort of horror in their life ever again. I took Hostage Negotiation training as a result of the absolute terror I experienced at the madman's hands. 

That day of September was supposed to be like any other day, get up, go to work, fry some dirty cops, go get some food from the local mini mart and go home, cook and clean the house and go to sleep. By the end of that day, the whole fucking schedule, the little routine that I had built since 99' was torn to shreds, everything was torn to shreds, lives were destroyed, peoples worlds were shattered, our optimism of a better and more peaceful era were scattered to ashes and it gave way to a era of violence, destruction, fear and suspicion. That day when two towers came crumbling down, dispatch asked for all units on scene and so I ran, I ran to save people and yet it felt like I couldn't do anything, all I could do was watch people desperately run for their lives from the burning, smoking towers that were filled with black, pluming smoke that clouded the blue, cloudless sky above, the air was filled with sirens, screams and crying, I was one of those crying voices, trying to save bloodied people as they stumbled and ran and pushed their way to whatever false sense of safety or salvation they could find. What I saw that day was indescribable, it was horrible, there are no words I can come up with that can describe the soul shattering moment when I started seeing people falling out of the buildings, people were being blinded by smoke and were disoriented and I could not catch them, I could not stop them from falling, I could only scream "NO! NOOO!" As my chest heaved with sobs. I pulled a lady who was hysterically sobbing to safety as she wobbled in her bare feet, her high heels were broken and I held her in my arms like a bride and I ran and ran as chunks of concrete, rubble, ash and asbestos rained around us, hailing onto our bodies and staining our deep blue uniforms, our clothes and for many of us, we inhaled this deadly dust and it would cause us destruction, internal destruction in the long run, I never imagined I would one day be one of its victims as well.

I ran and ran and just as I had reached safety, I could hear a loud, creaking and groaning sound as the metal and concrete crumbled and gave way and the South Tower collapsed, the whole thing just collapsed in on itself, leaving a massive cloud of dust and ashes in the air, what I didn't know then was that thousands of police officers and fire fighters died that day, and many of them would never have their bodies found, the scale of the tragedy was massive, it was colossal, it was global, the shockwaves reverberated all over the world as they watched helplessly, just like the rest of us as nearly 3,000 people died in those towers. And just a few minutes later, the North Tower also collapsed as well, leaving another plume of dust and ashes in its wake as well, I felt sobs build up in my chest and I broke down, the lady next to me that I had rescued broke down as well, we sobbed and mourned and grieved, I held her close to me, despite being strangers, despite not knowing each other's names, we sobbed and mourned a collective tragedy that touched all of our lives, this was a horrible day that had brought us all together, against a common enemy, a common foe that threatened our lives and threatened to destroy the fabric of our society, and I was mad that those terrorists had the nerve to attack us, to attack our way of life, and to do it in such a brazen way was unforgivable. We were united in anger, fury and heartbreak and in the wake of the destruction, the world united with us as one force, I was stunned and touched by the generosity of the whole world and how we could all be brought together.

I was soon assigned to clean up work in the Human Remains Recovery unit, I stood at a conveyor where debris was rolling by us like we were factory workers and we had to sort the human remains from the non organic debris, it was traumatic and I quickly learned to shut out what I was seeing, I learned to disassociate myself quickly from the horrors there, I don't honestly want to talk about this so I need to take a moment to myself to not remember what I worked so hard to forget what I saw there. I do remember the nights when I came home, stripped and showered, my depression began to reach a low point at this period and I actively considered suicide, there was no reason to live, all I kept seeing was trauma, all I kept seeing was horror and I was tired of seeing it all, I pulled out a knife from a drawer and considered ending it, the pain was so much that it was too much to handle, so I started cutting my upper thighs, watching them bleed gave me a rush, it gave me a little bit of control back from what was happening with me and with the world, all I wanted was to feel the pain and then feel better, but I forgot that just like drug addiction, self harm was a symptom of depression and PTSD. 


	26. ex aequo et bono

Today was the first day of the trial of the murder of Sgt. Naomi Woolworth and it was a day that felt as painful as the day I buried her, and I watched her lifeless body bleed all over the concrete that day in the parking garage. I remember the gunshots, I remember the motorcycle as it gunned its way around us, and I'll especially never forget how laser focused I was, shooting down the driver of the motorcycle and then arresting the gunman, I'll never forget a second of that day ever, even when I tried drowning this grief in booze, sex and work, I still have the memories to haunt me, to stalk me, to eat me alive in my subconscious as I sleep. I'll especially never ever forgive myself for not being able to save her, to protect her, or at the very least for how much of a pathetic human being I have become, to die for her. And yet, here I am, I am getting dressed in a suit, tying my tie and getting all dolled up for a fucking trial. A trial.

I look at myself in the mirror and I gaze into those pathetic blue eyes, they are soulless and lifeless and disgusting, my skin is starting to wrinkle more and more as I get older and I am rapidly approaching the qualifications for the consideration for the rank of Lieutenant and I feel like I don't deserve any of these honors or accolades, I feel like somehow, in reality, I'm a fake, a fraud and a loser, all I can say is that out of all of this shit that I have been enduring all by myself for all this time, I'm glad that nobody knows, because nobody would understand, they would judge me, perhaps I do deserve to be judged harshly because I am a pathetic loser. 

I sat down next to the ADA's chair, the case has been handed down to a different prosecutor since Ben Stone resigned suddenly, there are a multitude of rumors of why he resigned, I don't know why he did, I do certainly know that the case was most likely compromised by his resignation, all I can do is pray that we will win the day, that justice will be served and that the killer of Naomi will pay the price, there are still some days where I wish that New York hadn't done away with the death penalty, there are still some days I'd wished that I had also shot the shooter dead, it still would have been a clean shooting, so why didn't I? I don't have the answer to the question, I know that justice will be served and I know that he will be taken to prison, I know that there are forces greater than me in charge of what the fuck is going on here, all I can pray is that the twelve jury men and jury women will find that the arguments are beyond the reasonable doubt. Alex Cabot is the ADA and she is a smart woman and I know she will do her very best and she will do what it takes to make sure that justice is served. That is all I can hope for, because in the end, nothing is ever going to bring back my fiancée, there is nothing that can resuscitate her, she is six feet under, gone forever.

I sit down and pray silently, a futile prayer indeed that everything would be fair and that everything would be just, what a pathetic prayer when in reality, nothing was fair or just. I watched as the ADA and the others slowly and quietly make their way into the courtroom chamber, Alex stares at me intensely before giving me a sharp nod and whispers quietly 

"Don't worry, I have this in the bag."

She smiled and I smiled back, not knowing what in the blazes was I smiling for at all and then soon the defense attorney came in and then the defendant came in, heavily shackled and tied down, Ben had successfully argued that he was a danger to society and a flight risk and needed to remain in holding before and during the trial. The defendant sat down and began speaking with his attorney, he was lucky to have the right to defense counsel, it infuriated me sometimes that scum, murderous scum like him had the same rights as those who were truly innocent and it boiled my blood, I hated that man, I wanted him to burn alive and scream in agony for all of eternity, but I couldn't hold the same sort of anger towards that man that I used to in the days after Naomi's death, yes I would always have a sort of anger towards him, but I was starting to let it go, I was starting to move on and heal from my grief, it was starting to become less intense and excruciating every day. I saw the Honorable Judge Jay Melton walk in as the Bailiff announced everyone stand up and everybody stood up in respect and then eventually sat down.

I watched as the ADA delivered her opening statement, her statement was strong and it was filled with so much emotion, I could feel my heart hurt all over again just listening to her speak, but she was filled with a sort of rationality and fairness in her statement and I could feel hope that she was capable of winning the case, she was capable of beating those assholes and showing them that they were not about to get away with what they had done, despite their power and their influence in the underworld.

I managed to steel my emotions as I was called up to be cross examined, I remember being told before hand that any emotions I showed could prejudice the jury so Alex asked me 

"For the record please state your name"

"My name is Sargent Ed Tucker."

"Why where you there in that garage that day with Sgt. Naomi Woolworth?"

"We had reliable evidence including testimony and wiretaps as well as a CI gave us information on the front that was being used to transport cocaine"

"When you and Sgt. Woolworth were attacked, how did you take down the suspect?"

"I shot the driver of the motorcycle and shot him center mass, the motorcycle crashed and threw the shooter onto his side and then I cuffed him and handed him to Officer Lowe and then proceeded to administer medical aid to Sgt. Woolworth whereupon she was pronounced...."

I took a deep and shaky breath, feeling like I was going to cry and then finished 

"...deceased at the scene."


	27. in terrorem clause

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is with sincere apologies that I post this work after so many delays. My family friend and her parents got COVID and managed to beat it thankfully, however one of their relatives wasn't lucky enough and died of it.

As I sit in my apartment, I can only reflect, I can only look back on what could have been, if I had a chance to change the past, to have been able to save my Fiancée Naomi. Naomi was an angel and she loved to smile and I remember on Valentine's day, I got her a card with a red heart and pink roses that she loved and a box of chocolates and a diamond heart necklace, I remember the joy as she gasped in surprise when she opened the box, but I also had an additional surprise for her. I led her on a scavenger hunt where we explored the places where we had dated for clues and we quizzed each other on small things about each other and at the end of the scavenger hunt, she found the small ring box and gasped as I knelt before her in the snow, in Grand Central Park and held her hands as I began my mini speech "Sargent Naomi, the moment I met you at the precinct was the day I realized my life would change, I didn't know however that you would change my life for the better, you would make me a better person, you opened up my heart and eyes to the infinite colors and possibilities there are, you have opened up my mind and my soul to so many different things that I never thought I would be able to explore with anybody. You make me feel special and whole, I hope I make you feel the same way. Will you please do me the honor of being my wife and my soulmate for life?" I then opened the ring box and she smiled and kissed me and I kissed her back as she added "Yes, a million times yes! please!" and I twirled her around as I held her. The snow fell on my head and shoulders and it gave off a beautiful aura from Naomi's beautiful brown wavy locks. I remember her lips tasting like strawberries that day, I remember putting the ring on her finger and we held hands as we proudly announced our engagement to anybody and everybody that noticed the joy as we walked down the sidewalk.

I didn't stop to think of the intense grief that would follow or the depression that would be left in the wake of her murder when she was shot dead, undercover with me, right in front of my eyes. I never got the chance to recite my vows to her, I really wanted to impress her with my vows and now there is no chance I will ever be able to do that again. I felt the tears hit me again and it felt like as if I had just lost her all over again. I thought I was over the first stage of grief, clearly I was not. As I lay in bed all by myself, I thought and imagined of what our marriage would have been, I can only imagine what Naomi would have been like when we would have celebrated our first anniversary, to have our first child, to have more children, to watch our children go to college, get married and then to have kids of their own and for us retire and die together. But Naomi died young and she will stay young, she will never age, she will never grow old, she will never have to worry about any of that. And I am trapped here, all alone in this gilded cage called life. There is an illusion everyone has that death will not touch them, that death seems distant and far away, but no, death is always close and near, it hovers above all of us and it is like a ghostly specter, wanting to steal us, to steal those close to us from us. And to be alone in this grief, it is the worst thing in the world to go through and to die with this grief still killing is the worst of tortures. This hellish grief that I have gone through since losing Naomi and my twin brother Jason is a sort of grief that I would never wish on anybody. 

As I went to the courthouse, I took a deep breath, to steel my nerves and to force my face into the classic I give absolutely no fucks as to why I'm here face and I opened the door and entered the courthouse, I strode past the massive stone columns and past the marble statues with their firm gazes affixed to the viewer and then I walked through the metal detectors and I was cleared through security and then I sat down once again next to ADA Cabot, who successfully evaded many of the defense attorney's dirty tactics and soon they delivered their closing speeches and then it was time for the jury to convene and render their verdict, this session lasted at least three hours and I soon left the building and lit a cigarette, the memories of the day she died blindsided me, she lay there on the concrete ground, her straightened brown hair lay splayed all over the ground and her arms were eagle spread across the floor, the blood below her body spreading and pooling beneath her like dark bloody wings. I remember her empty, lifeless eyes gazing at the celling as I ran to hold her, to check her pulse and to try and save her. I remember doing CPR and screaming "NAOMI NO! NOOOOOOOOO! DON'T LEAVE MEE DON'T GO! PLEASE DON'T GO PLEASE I'M BEGGING YOU!"

All I remember of that day was the sobs and the tears, it all felt like a blur as I remember holding her body and cradling her close to my chest when I realized it was of no use to try and resuscitate her, I then remember someone taking her away from me and then placing her in the black body bag, the sight of her being wheeled away in the Coroner's van, the same fucking van in which her killer was being taken to the morgue was almost too much of an irony, it was too much then and it is too much now.


	28. per incuriam

As I start to get dressed because the verdict has been rendered, I think of Naomi, I think of how she would have been like right now, I think of all that could have been, I wonder if she would have been proud of me becoming a Sargent in the Internal Affairs, I wonder if she would have supported me through my sexual assaults that have all but reduced me to rubble inside. I wonder what it would have been like, having her as my wife and what day to day life would have been like, I will forever guess and wonder. But for now, now is not the time for such contemplations, now is the time to face the reality that she isn't ever coming back, that her killer is having is verdict read out to him and that means that I must come to terms with her death, I slowly get my tie done and clip it down to my white dress shirt and I fix the collar and then I get my eye contacts and put them on, I then also grab my badge and gun and as I'm fully dressed in the black suit that has become my armor, my second skin for me and then I grab my keys from the key hook and I grab a small snack and then leave the house after locking it. 

I take a slow and deep breath as I unlock the car and then I start driving, I am determined to not cry in front of anybody, regardless of the verdict. I will not show any emotion because my emotions give the killer satisfaction, the satisfaction that he won, because he didn't, he lost, he lost his freedom and his right to life the moment he fired that gun towards us. And for the first time in a long time, today was a day that made me wish that New York didn't do away with the death penalty. I wanted to see that bastard die in the same way he killed my fiancée, deep within me, I knew this wouldn't bring her back, but at least it would relieve me of the agony of seeing her killer breathe the same fucking air that I have to breathe. I parked at the parking lot near One Hogan place and then went through the same metal detectors as I had been through hundreds of times before, I gazed up at the massive columns that held up the rotunda of the place and gazed softly at the frescoes and wondered and hoped that justice would be truly served for Naomi, for her grieving and hurting siblings, and most of all, for me. I quietly entered the courtroom and sat down next to the prosecutor Alex Cabot, she had a firm but gentle gaze that offered a sort of strength and a strange sort of solace, that somehow after all of this, even when I was going through all of this, I was never alone. I gazed back and watched her siblings walk in, they looked tired and looked like they had been through hell, and I didn't blame them, I was going through the exact same hell when my brother Jason was murdered.

I watched as many other spectators came and sat down and I faced forward again, I was absorbed in my thoughts of how would I be able to live now, how would I be able to face the future now, now that the trial would be done in a matter of moments after the verdict was read? That was a question that I was personally afraid to answer, I was not sure what I was afraid of, that the answer would be an answer that I completely expected or an answer that was the complete opposite? Ever since Naomi died, my life and me, I was stuck, I was trapped and unable to move on from the moment that she had died, I was unable to heal from losing her and now, today is a day that marks the first step of me fully moving forward, with closure, whether I like it or not. Today is a unique day and it is a new day and I am ready to embrace it fully with my arms. Soon the prisoner in shackles came in and the defense attorney sat in the chair next to him in the defense's table, the Judge soon came in and everybody stood up and then everybody sat down as he said "Please be seated."

As the jury was brought in, my heart started beating faster, my palms started sweating and I swear, I could hear my heart pounding through my ears, my breathing became slightly faster and my mouth went so dry, so fast, I thought I swallowed sand. I felt my throat clog up with unreleased emotions as the jurors sat down, they had no expression on their faces and that worried me very much, I was hopeful for a guilty verdict, but there always was a chance of a not guilty verdict as well. I watched as the Judge asked the Foreman of the jury some questions and then the Foreman handed the packet full of votes to the bailiff, as he walked, his shiny shoes clicked with each step on the hard wood floor and I could feel time slow down and he handed it to the clerk who opened the folder and I could hear the rustle of the papers and she then read it aloud as "guilty." I felt a wave of relief crash over me as tears rolled down my eyes, that this man, who had been found beyond the reasonable doubt, guilty of murdering Sgt. Naomi Woolworth in the first degree murder. I could hear sobbing behind me and all around me, I couldn't believe it as I watched the man get taken away for sentencing as I heard the tell tale bang of the gavel, I could feel the weight of the sky, the weight of my grief get lifted off of my shoulders and I could feel Alex's comforting hand on my shoulder. I tried to reel in my emotions but it was of no use, I felt all of the grief, relief, happiness, sadness, anger and loneliness in my tears, I felt a mixture of emotions as I stood up and hugged her brother and her sister, who both hugged me back and then I wiped my tears and left, I knew at least for now, I could rest, I could rest because for now, the fight had been won, and the dragon had been slain and my beautiful beloved Naomi could rest in peace, for I had won justice for her and I had fought with all I had to make sure this bastard never got away with what he did to her.


	29. Que sera, sera

As I slowly and fully recovered from the injuries caused from my rape and I started recovering emotionally from the murder of Naomi, I took a deep breath and came back to work, I found myself in the same comforting, yet numbing routine of doing my paperwork, investigating dirty cops and interrogating witnesses and following up on complaints that needed to be followed up on. I dug through files and went through cases each day, trying to move on, trying to heal. Trust me when I say this, it is a difficult and a monumental task to try and move on from the loss of someone that you have loved.

Soon I was told to go undercover because there was a dirty cop that was suspected to be a serial killer and murdering male prostitutes and many of them were young, attractive, brown haired and fair skinned. I gazed at the pictures of the murdered young men and they were around my age too. I gasped a little as I looked at the crime scene photos, they were filled with a great deal of blood and gore and I thought I had stopped breathing when I looked at the photos. I saw several colored nylon cords, stained with blood and tied in sailor knots and there were several gun shells lying near the wooden post where the last body was found tied up several times with barely any clothing and the prostitute was found raped. The Captain told me 

"Tucker you will have to work with Manhattan Special Victims Unit on this case alongside Detectives Benson and Stabler."

I inwardly groaned, my mind screaming _of all the people to assign me with, you're assigning me to THEM!? Captain you have got to be kidding me, please tell me this is a fucking joke please don't do this to me please._

I dared not to complain in front of the Captain, although I had sexual history with Stabler and I had a history of investigating him and Olivia Benson and now I was being forced to work with them to take down a dirty cop who was hurting other people and I had to stop that bastard as soon as I could because there could be repercussions for all three of us if we didn't and that could mean more lives being lost. I then grabbed my gun, badge and things and drove over to the precinct where Benson and Stabler worked, and I steeled my nerves for the vitriol and the hatred that was certain to be aimed my way, I was determined to get this over with, not to make any sort of waves and get the fuck out of there as soon as possible in a humane manner, there was a clear climate of antagonism towards the Internal Affairs in SVU and the love wasn't lost in return to them either. Our feelings of antagonism towards SVU were strong and tempered through time and they hated us, it was a mutual hate relationship to say the least and now I felt like a lamb, sent to be sacrificed for the sake of solving a case. I felt useless but I knew that I was doomed, just like I was doomed when I met my captain who raped me in that hotel hours later, when he lured me with promises of dropping the charges. I prayed they would be merciful and at least spare me the worst of their wrath. 

I pulled the door open and entered the precinct and I walked in, greeted by the sounds of computer keyboards clacking and the smell of coffee hitting my nose right on contact, I could smell the smell of rotting paper as SVU was busy digitalizing their files and updating their technology and getting trained in the art of using laptops and computers rather than using typewriters and using handwritten paperwork. I nervously fidgeted with my tie as Detective Munch glared at me through his wire eyeglasses and pushed them up his thin nose and walked past me as he sat down at his desk, Detective Tutuola coldly regarded me and snarked 

"You here for a case or to pick up your date?"

I swallowed tightly and tried to remember why I was here, god my mind just went blank at Munch's eyes. John Munch had mesmerizing eyes that could peer into your soul and I wonder, just wonder if he saw into the brokenness and the devastation that defined the very landscape of my heart and soul. I swallowed some saliva and began 

"I'm here to speak to Captain...Captain Cragen. We need to collaborate with your guys on a case. I'll be out of your hair as soon as I can be. I promise." 

Fin didn't seem to believe me but said "Two doors down on your left is the Captain's office." I then followed his directions and knocked on the closed door and then waited for a response and then I heard a voice from with in say "Come in." With a quick twist of my wrist, I opened the door and gently opened it and steeled my nerves for the barrage to begin, all I knew was, by the end of this case, I was either gonna be in the ICU, or in the morgue, the latter seemed to be much more preferable than the former, at least I would be with Naomi that way forever. Life seemed to be so long and hard and impossible without her. I saw Captain Cragen's hazel eyes glare at me and I could feel myself flashing back to when he choked me and my heart beat loudly, I felt as if I was back there again when suddenly he snapped "Sargent!" and suddenly I was back at his office, back in present day and I realized he was waiting for me to answer his question 

"Oh, Sorry Captain, I apologize. As I was about to say, I need to collaborate with Detectives Benson and Stabler on an important case."

I took a deep breath, waiting for an answer. 


	30. Veritas omina vincit

Captain Cragen glared at me with the sort of glare that would have turned any lesser man to stone, but by now, I was used to him and his tactics to bully, intimidate and to harass. He scratched his head as if he was seriously weighing the decision and he seemed to be as if he was against the idea of me teaming up with his two infamous detectives that I had investigated over and over and over, he took a slow and deliberate breath and glared at me with those greenish eyes that pierced their way through my very soul and he said 

"Very well then. Detectives Benson and Stabler will be notified, however, they may not be keen as to working with you Sargent Tucker, that is a fair warning that I am giving you."

I took a deep breath and replied "I fully understand as to what I am about to deal with Captain Cragen. I hope they will see that there is a case to be solved and will remain professional despite whatever personal grievances we may have."

Cragen then led me to Benson's and Stabler's desks and told them 

"You will be working with Sargent Tucker on this case, any questions?"

Stabler snarked "Yeah, One. Why him of all people? You know we both have been investigated by him?"

Cragen retorted "He has the intel on the dirty cop, he has the skills to track down dirty cops, neither of you do! And this isn't a suggestion either."

They both looked resigned to their lot, and so was I. Soon I came by with a dozen folders on cops that I was investigating that had complaints on them and they seemed slack jawed at the amount of work that I had to deal with on my own. I decided to open up several folders of cops that I believed were the closest to the suspect we needed to bring into custody, Stabler went over the files and the scene photos and said 

"This guy is getting more efficient at his behavior and more systemic. We can't just bring in these cops and question them. It'll only cause them to panic and bury their evidence, or worse, they just hide their behavior and then escalate until it's too late. We need a different method, you also said that this man drowns his victims Tucker?"

I decided to open up the victim folders and tack them to the cork board and then I took a step back as I examined the causes of death for all the victims, and Benson pointed out 

"It looks like his common method is using restraints, he wants power and control over his victims, he gets a thrill over the helplessness of his victims. Some, but not all of the victims have been drowned, two of them were stabbed to death. It seems like he wants to change his methods to get the same amount of release and it looks like he is obsessed with seeing his victims die slow and painful deaths."

I realized Olivia was right, these people have had to die such horrendous and slow deaths, it was horrible to imagine the terror these victims must have gone through just before they died, I could only imagine the victims pleading to be released, pleading to go home, pleading for safety, anything but this. I took in a sharp deep breath as I went over the photos and Stabler added 

"They all look like you Ed, they have a strong resemblance to especially your facial structure and they all are around your age. This killer is sending a message, but is it to you or the IAB department as a whole?"

I realized "This is a message mainly to me, not the department, they all resemble me after all, why isn't this killer diversifying their victims if it was a message to the whole department?"

Stabler then said "You need to go undercover and bait this guy out. He will easily recognize you, and chances are, he is someone who knows you very well."

I was terrified at the prospect of someone that I knew going after me, there were too many people I knew that hated me and would probably throw a party the moment I went six feet under. I took a deep breath and realized, Elliot was right, I needed to do this, to lure this son of a bitch out and get this scumbag behind bars, now was not the time to be obsessed over people that could be hating me and wanting me dead, now was the time to start getting this asshole. That night as I showered and scrubbed myself in the locker room, I was anxious and vibrating with a sort of nervous energy that seemed to be pulsating off of my heart, my head and my hands and my throat. I closed my eyes and thought of those dead victims and their relatives I had to tell that their loved one was dead. I owed it to those people to bring those victims justice at all costs for what they had suffered and what they had been through, nobody deserved to suffer the horrible way that the serial killer had made these victims and their families and friends suffer in such a horrible way. 

I opened my eyes again and then finished showering and then I turned off the spray and then grabbed a towel and dried myself and wrapped it around my waist. I stepped out of the shower cubicle and went to my locker and unlocked it and grabbed my undercover clothes and sighed, I was gonna look like a punk drug addict and I hated this look so I rolled my eyes and got dressed in my skin tight black jeans, tied on the spiked belt and put on a skin tight shirt and put on some black eyeliner that Benson loaned to me and some mascara and then I took a deep breath and sighed, I could do this. I can do this. I will do this.


End file.
